


In Chaos, I Thrive

by Kurenaino



Series: Morning Star [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Inappropriate Behavior, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mind Control, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Rebellion, Sith Obi-Wan, Sith Shenanigans, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:52:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 115,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9602537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenaino/pseuds/Kurenaino
Summary: With Palpatine's Empire slowly gaining strength, Sith Lord Darth Lumis rages across the galaxy, spreading chaos and dissent in an effort to hide both the growing Rebellion that will come to topple an Empire, and the twins he has sworn to keep safe.





	1. Fulcrum - 18 BBY

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME! I know, right?! We're already going on this! Welcome back! Or...welcome to this massive saga! This is In Chaos, I Thrive, the third part of the story that started with From Grace, I Fall, and its sequel, From Darkness, I Rise. Let me explain.
> 
> I struggled with the format on this one. Originally, I was going to start this story at 5 BBY and tell important bits in flashbacks. BUT KURENAINO, you may say. That's, like, a fourteen year gap since the end of the last story! And you HATE flashbacks! Yeah, guys, I know. The stuff in those fourteen years, turns out, is REALLY important to establishing what will be going on by the time I was going to start. And it had to be told. So, this next part is going to be a but different, only...fifteen chapters or so, dedicated to setting up the state of the galaxy and establishing character relationships that are absolutely essential to the next part. This isn't a one-shot collection. This is a countdown to a galactic mess.
> 
> I actually had a lot of fun writing this one, and we're going to have a lot of fun with this story together, I promise you. If you're new to this series...uh, you CAN start here, if you like, but it's highly recommended you go back and check out, at the very least, From Darkness, I Rise. Long, I know, but I've been told it's a fun read. Alright, business done! Enjoy, my lovelies!

Mos Eisley was, to put it simply, a wretched hive a scum and villainy. A haven for murders and thieves, where lawlessness was the rule, where the only authority acknowledged was that of the Hutt Cartel. There was a time when the town was a city, bustling and sprawling, not grand as a city on a world that _mattered_ , but for Tatooine, Mos Eisley was the center of everything. Until a particularly vicious attack during the Clone Wars destroyed every major city on the planet, and in their hour of need, Jabba the Hutt came to render aid to the desperate, broken people, and crime reasserted itself as the only law, the shambled, burning towns rebuilt under the careful watch of a mighty cartel, forced to lay low, came out of hiding to reassert its power.

Crime had flourished during the Clone Wars, the peacekeeping Jedi that once stood vigilant against the lawless occupied with leading the Republic against the Separatists, and the major cartels had gathered tremendous wealth and strength, empires of their own that thrived on the business of illicit activities. Then came Mandalore's Shadow King. A violent storm of shadow and fire and rage that would see the galaxy burn if it meant the crime cartels would be rendered to ash, and they _were_. Crime was not eliminated, but the cartels were, save for Jabba the Hutt, leaving a void that Mandalore stepped in to fill, peerless warriors with a talent for violence that was bred by the Death Watch, the ruthless guard Mandalore's mighty Empire.

Then came the Galactic Empire out of the tatters of the Republic, and everything changed. With the abrupt end of the Clone Wars, former Separatist worlds found themselves crushed under the boot of the Empire, local populations forced to turn to crime and smuggling simply for survival as those who opposed the new regime were hunted and destroyed. From the chaos, Jabba the Hutt, the miraculous sole survivor of Mandalore's crime purge, saw his own influence spike as the lawless rushed to his protection, and within months, the Hutt Cartel was reborn, more vast and stronger than it had ever been, allowed to thrive in the vacuum the other cartels had left, and left largely alone by the Galactic Empire, who found themselves struggling to exert control over worlds closer to home.

Mandalore supported the Empire that brought peace to the war torn galaxy, but with the influence of Jabba on Tatooine on the edges of the Mandalorian Empire, Bo-Katan and her Death Watch found themselves struggling to maintain control of the vast expanse of their territory, the once called Hutt Space falling back into lawlessness with Jabba's sudden rise. Bo-Katan had called on Palpatine to help secure her boarders, but the Emperor had his own troubles as the first year of his rule was spent trying to exert his control over the Core Worlds, a difficult task made even harder by pockets of violent, random opposition that spread chaos and dissent throughout the Empire. Equally violent attempts by the Empire's top commanders to secure the galaxy with forced order only led to further resistance to Imperial rule. It was, in short, a mess.

Without Imperial support, Mandalore's warrior's spread across Mandalore Space to serve as the lone force of the Mandalorian law, and many turned to bounty hunting as an effective and profitable means of cleaning up the galaxy of the criminals that drew enough attention to become noticed. Many of these jobs came from Jabba himself, exerting his influence by destroying those that may stand as a challenge to his uncontested cartel. Still more of these contracts came from the Galactic Empire itself, the new power offering insane sums of credits for the capture or execution of the Empire's enemies in an attempt to rid themselves of the sources of the threats to their uncontested rule.

It was a good time to be a bounty hunter, and Mos Eisley, heart of Jabba's crime empire, was the best place to look for contracts.

"You would think," one man said to his companion as they strode across the sands to Mos Eisley's cantina, "that the Empire would have control by now." He was tall, the Mandalorian armor he wore the black and red of the Death Watch and marked with carbon scoring that had yet to be scrubbed off, indicating his recent forays into battle.

"Don't complain," his companion said softly, a faint wind rustling the black robes that were integrated into his own black and red armor, the helmet on his head adorned with sweeping horns that served to invoke respect among those he commanded, and fear among those that opposed him. "If the Empire had no enemies, we'd be out of work."

"If the Empire had no enemies, maybe they'd get off their royal asses and finally do something about the Hutts." His companion scoffed.

"That isn't likely. The Hutts are vastly wealthy, and attacking them is extremely dangerous, both economically and politically." He shrugged, the pair passing by a small group of scruffy humans that quickly averted their gazes from the Mandalorians. Thieves, most likely, attempting to go unnoticed by the intimidating pair. "And, I hear the Emperor is making good with Jabba. Keeping the cartel out of your hair while your own Empire is struggling is a good move."

"Is it?" the other asked. "I would think keeping Mandalore happy would be a top priority."

"It is," he said as they walked into the cantina, the air thick with hazy smoke. "But not when Jabba's involved. That slug never lost power when Mandalore took over, and he's stronger now than ever. Why should the Empire get involved and pick a side when they don't have to? Mandalore and the Hutts keep each other in check, there's no reason to disrupt that balance. The Empire's a long ways from expanding into the Outer Rim anyway, and _nobody_ has _ever_ cared about Tatooine."

"Because of the sand?" he offered, and his companion nodded.

"Because of the sand. I've _always_ hated the stuff, it'll scuff your armor something _fierce_."

They walked through the crowded, noisy room, passing by the bar where ruffians sat drunkenly arguing with each other and tables where several different species sat gambling, and the headed right for the back, where a dozen bounty hunters gathered around a terminal, speaking in hushed whispers to each other as they collectively scrolled through the contracts posted to the system. Every now and then, one of the bounty hunters would tag a contract, and the information would be sent to their datapads to be accepted, or released back into the system for another to take. The pair sat behind the group at a table tucked into a corner and took out a datapad which they linked to the terminal, and a moment later, the contracts were displayed before them on the small screen.

"Filter the results," the man in robes softly commanded, and his companion nodded and did as he was told, adjusting the search parameters to only display contracts posted by the Empire, using their vast wealth and the excess of bounty hunters in the Outer Rim to the best of their advantage. What was posted was more of the usual, suspected spies and saboteurs, and a general reminder that information on fugitive Jedi was to be reported to the Imperial Inquisitorius for a sum of credits. Nobody _ever_ reported fugitive Jedi if they weren't actively working for the Empire. A dead Jedi was worth more than the information on one, and the Mandalorians were ruthless in their hunt for them. Still, in one year of Imperial rule, very few survivors of the Jedi Purge had actually been found, and the reminder went largely ignored. Jedi were rare, if not extinct, and there were better ways to make credits than chasing ghosts.

A collective gasp went up in the group of the bounty hunters, and the two Mandalorians looked their way as chairs shuffled and the previous conversations were silenced. A new contract had been posted, one of the rare contracts that couldn't be tagged and accepted by a single hunter, but was open to all who would make the attempt. What got the attention of the hunters in the cantina wasn't _who_ the contract was for, but how much was being offered.

"Right on schedule, it would seem," the man in the horned helmet drawled, amusement in his voice as he rose, his companion following suit and quietly tagging the contract as they moved to stand among the other bounty hunters.

" _One million credits_?!" one of them gasped, staring slack-jawed at the display and quickly tagging the information on his datapad, his eyes quickly scanning over the information that was sent to him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi..." he said softly as he read the information. "Fugitive Separatist leader."

"Never heard of him," one of the hunters, a Devaronian, said.

"I thought that Dooku guy ran the Separatists," a human said, and an agitated Duros rolled her eyes.

"You're all a bunch of ignorant, backwater nerf herders, you know that? Where were you during the war?"

"Staying out of it," a Zabrak female drawled, and the hunters erupted with laughter, and the Duros hissed with annoyance and stuffed her datapad into its pouch.

"You guys go ahead and take that job. A million credits isn't worth anything when you're dead."

"Scared, little girl?" the Devaronian asked, leering at the woman, who shot him a look of disgust. "I bet our Mandalorian friends here will take that job. Mandalorian's ain't scared of anything."

"Scared, no," the Mandalorian said, standing beside his intimidating, dark companion. "But also not stupid. Read the information" he said, holding up his datapad and turning it around so they could all see. "Wanted for sparking the rebellion on Umbara, evaded Imperial pursuit and disappeared after three days of running." He whistled. "Any guy that gives the Empire this much trouble is worth leaving alone so the rest of us can be entertained."

" _This_ guy sparked the rebellions on Umbara?" the Devaronian gasped, pointing to the image of the young, unassuming man on the datapad.

"He's a _baby_ ," the human said as he put away his datapad. "He's just a boy, I've got a son older than him, from the look of it. What is the Empire doing hunting _children_."

"Dangerous children..." the Duros said. "The Empire wouldn't be offering so many credits if this job was easy. Last time I saw a contract this big was for the Black Sun, and they wanted hunters to go after the guy so they could draw him out." She scoffed. "They _never_ intend on paying."

"Says here to report information to the Inquisitorius," the human muttered. " _And_ he's a Jedi?" He looked at the Mandalorians. "You look like you've been out there in the fighting. If the Inquisitors are involved with this...Obi-Wan, is _he_ involved on what's happened on Raada?"

"Raada?" the robed Mandalorian asked. "Where's Raada? What's happened?"

"You don't know?" The Mandalorian shook his head.

"We've been in the Expansion Region for weeks on a job, we haven't heard anything."

"Raada," he said slowly, "is a farming moon, little place here in the Outer Rim. The Imperials took over," He leaned in and lowered his voice. "They say there was a _Jedi_ there. The Inquisitors were deployed."

"That's it," the Devaronian said, dropping his datapad on his chair. "I'm out. This is too much trouble for me. There was a fifty thousand credit contract I saw earlier, go back to that." Quiet mutters of agreement were muttered, and the bounty hunters dismissed the contract and began looking for something more reasonable. The Mandalorians took a moment to look at the group, and quietly accepted the contract on Obi-Wan Kenobi, and left the cantina without another word to anyone.

They were silent as they made their way across the sand streets of Mos Eisley toward the spaceport, a small spread of secure hangars run by the Hutts that was in a state of constant construction and rebuilding in an effort to recreate the massive compound that had existed before Tatooine was attacked. The bigger the spaceport, the more smugglers they could facilitate, and the effort had been a top priority for the past year and a half. It was slow going.

As they approached one of the enclosed, private hangars, a pair of heavily armed Trandoshans. Nodded their scaled heads and stepped out of the way, the heavy locks on the door clicking and whirring as it unlocked, and with a hiss, the door slid open, and the guard detail quickly closed the door once again when the pair had disappeared inside. The ship that sat inside the hangar was a large, sleek creation, jet black accented with blood red, a fearsome looking thing that bespoke of wealth and elegance. Arrow shaped in design, it boasted of rounded, smooth curves and wings that swept in a gentle arch from the rear of the ship, it's design specifically created to hide not only some of th most powerful engines ever made, but also to conceal powerful heavy laser cannons underneath its wings.

With a sigh of contentment, the Mandalorian slipped off his horned helmet and, smiling, walked up the boarding ramp into the confines of the _Umbra_. Obi-Wan Kenobi was home.

"They're getting desperate," Cody said, slipping off his helmet as he tapped on the controls to retract the boarding ramp and seal the airlock. "I'm surprised they didn't do this sooner. They must be _really_ mad about what we did on Umbara."

"It _is_ the first active rebellion we've encouraged..." Kenobi said softly, sitting in the pilot's seat and prepping the ship for takeoff, the engines smoothly beginning to hum as they engaged. "Everything else has been small by comparison, but they'll have their hands full with Umbara for months. As we learned in the Clone Wars, Cody, hard handed tactics don't work on the Umbarans." Upon signal from the ship, the hangar's skydoors opened up, and when Cody dropped into the copilot's seat, Kenobi engaged the stealth system, lifted the ship into the air and pressed the accelerator forward, flying slow and close to the ground and heading out toward the vast desert of Tatooine.

"Are we worried about the Inquisitors yet?" Cody asked, and Kenobi shook his head.

"No, but I'm starting to wonder where they're getting these guys from. They did a pretty good job executing trained Jedi old enough to serve the Inquisitorius, so... _where_." His eyes narrowed as he looked out the forward viewport as the sand rushed past. "Sidious must have been training Force sensitives untouched by the Jedi if he..." Kenobi groaned as he smacked his head. "Dromund Kaas. It's the only explanation."

Cody tilted his head as he looked the Sith Lord over. "Before my time, sir."

"Me and Quin. Mission to Sith Space back when I was a Jedi." He waved his hand in the air, dismissing the question when a stab of pain pierced him. It was old pain, but it never seemed like it. "Long story, but at the heart of it was this. _Sith Temple_. Lots and lots of acolytes of the Dark Side. I bet you Sidious is drawing from there, they were awaiting the return of the Sith last time I was there."

"That where we're headed next?"

"No," Kenobi said firmly. "Dromund Kaas will put us too close to Sidious and Vader. _And_ ," he chirped, a bright smile coming to his lips, "our next spot is the Lars farm to pick up Luke! I need a few weeks with the kids, I have _missed them_."

Cody rolled his eyes as he scoffed, but he couldn't keep the smile from his lips. "I'll contact Jabba and Bo-Katan about this contract on you. We'll get the word out."

Kenobi nodded. "Find out about this matter on Raada as well. If there were Jedi there, I need to know. Maybe it's Luminara. We need to find her before the Empire does."

Mandalore stood in fierce opposition to the criminal Hutts, as everyone in the galaxy was well aware. As one rose, the other declined, until they became locked in a power struggle to control the Outer Rim territories that had, for thousands of years, belonged to the Hutts and now were part of the mighty Mandalorian Empire. It was a front, of course, a clever ploy set in motion to make it _very_ difficult to occupy Mandalore Space. Bo-Katan and Jabba had been working _very_ closely since the Empire arose, a dangerous alliance that put up the front of Imperial support and order under the militaristic Bo-Katan, while she quietly supported the expansion of the Hutt cartel to be used to smuggle supplies to worlds suffering under the yoke of Palpatine's Empire.

It was perfect. Organized crime protected by law and order, the front upheld by the Mandalorian bounty hunters that did jobs on behalf of the Empire, and averted suspicion away from them by taking out criminals that were stupid enough to draw attention to themselves. It wasn't enough to take down the Empire, which, despite unrest, grew stronger by the day by employing hash, brutal consequences for opposition, but it was a good place to begin a movement, when the time was right. When the Jedi younglings have grown to fighting age. When it would be time to establish the New Sith Empire.

The ship slowed, the whine of the engines lowering to a soft thrum as they stopped in the air and lowered down into a large hole carved in rock and sand, the below the surface courtyard serving to keep the sun and heat away from the homestead. Kenobi was out of his seat before the ship finished powering down, and before the whine of the engines died, the Sith Lord was running down the boarding ramp to meet Owen Lars, his arms crossed over his chest and glaring at the uninvited guest.

"You know," Owen said, almost growled, "one day, you're going to lead the _wrong_ people here, with how much you come and go. How do you expect Luke to stay safe when he's around _you_."

Kenobi clapped the farmer on the shoulder. "It's a stealth ship, Owen, nobody sees me come and go, and unless the Empire starts capitalizing on sand, Tatooine has nothing they want. You and your wife and my son are _safe_."

"Well, _Jabba_ -"

" _Jabba_ ," Kenobi stressed, "works for me. I've told you. As do the Mandalorians, so you have _nothing_ to worry about." He could see the farmer's shoulders relax, and though he still looked displeased, he could feel the man filled with worry, not anger, and it was quickly beginning to fade.

It had been easy enough to convince Owen Lars to help care for the infant son of his brother, Anakin Skywalker, the young Knight listed by the Empire as one of the traitorous Jedi that was confirmed dead in the aftermath of the purges that swept the galaxy. It became a different matter entirely when Obi-Wan had told the farmer that Luke would be staying with the Lars family while Obi-Wan was away fighting against the Empire that now claimed to rule the galaxy. Luke would be Luke Lars when he was on Tatooine, but otherwise, he would be raised as Luke Kenobi, adopted by the man that Anakin had said was _very_ dangerous, and when he was old enough, he would be taught how to use the Force. Owen didn't like it _at all_. After all, it was the Force that got his brother marked for death and killed, and now it seemed that this rogue Jedi would condemn Anakin's son to the same fate.

It wasn't that he didn't like Obi-Wan. He did, despite his brother's warnings, which had been frantic and wrathful the last time they met. Anakin had said that Obi-Wan was a bad man, a _dangerous_ man, that he was out to hurt Anakin personally, and Owen believed it. But he also believed that a man that would fix and improve vaporators for farmers he hardly knew, a man that would adopt the son of his enemy and raise it as his own, a man that would fight _against_ the Empire that killed the Jedi was a man that was at least trying to do the right thing. Perhaps the man was seeking redemption for past wrongs. Owen didn't know, but it wouldn't be fair to punish baby Luke for it.

Beru was another matter. Beru loved little Luke, and she absolutely adored the man that was his father, and when she stepped out of the homestead with Luke in her arms and saw her husband standing and talking with Obi-Wan Kenobi, she smiled brightly and rushed into his waiting arms.

Are you keeping safe?" she asked quickly, a smile on her face as she looked up at the Sith Lord from the protective embrace of his arms, a smiling Luke snuggled between them. "How are things in the galaxy? Is there _really_ no more Republic?"

"You know there isn't, Beru," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he took the giggling Luke from her arms, the one year old's presence reaching out to wrap itself around his father, warm and excited, and the Sith held him tightly. "We talk about this every time I'm here."

"I know, but it's just so hard to believe!" she said, clutching her husband's arm, and Owen sighed and gently pat her hand, his hard features relaxing in the presence of his wife's enthusiasm. "There's _always_ been a Republic!"

"And the Empire will treat us just the same as the Republic did," Owen said softly. "With indifference. It doesn't matter what's happening in the galaxy, life never changes on Tatooine."

"Has Luke been good?" Obi-Wan asked the pouting woman softly, and she immediately brightened.

"He's an _angel_ ," she cooed, tapping the baby on the nose, and with a wild laugh, Luke grabbed at her finger. "It's...nice to have a child around."

A sly smirk passed over Obi-Wan's face, a devious light in his golden eyes. "You know, Beru, if you like, I can teach your husband how to make one."

"Oh, _ha, ha, Kenobi_ ," Owen said, his voice raised in both outrage and embarrassment. "You wouldn't know anyway, _you_ didn't make Luke!"

"No, that's true," he said softly, his eyes drifting far away as he reached into the Force to conjure the vision he once had of his own son, the pain that followed readily welcomed and sharp within him. "But I did once. Long ago." Owen looked at the man before him, his golden eyes appearing to see nothing at all, a small, pained smile on his lips, and sympathy rushed through him like a wave that was _completely_ unwelcome. He didn't want to like Obi-Wan. He thought it best for everyone involved if Luke stay safe on Tatooine, not go off for weeks at a time with his decidedly dangerous adoptive father. But when he looked at him now, he saw a _father_ , not just to Luke, but to a child that came before him. There was a great deal he didn't know about this man. One day, he may stay around long enough to find out.

The warm, familiar comfort of Luke wrapped around him and brought Obi-Wan back to the present, the faint smile never fading. "Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?"

"...my speeder needs repairs," Owen grumbled. "I'd get parts to replace it, but, well, the shop that sold the parts blew up in the attacks."

"Oh." Kenobi frowned. "When I bring Luke back, I'll drop off a new one." He smiled softly when both the farmer and his wife's jaws dropped. "State of the art. You'll have the best speeder on Tatooine."

"I-I can't-"

"Credits are of no consequence," Kenobi interrupted, holding up his hand. "But, if you don't want it, consider it a late birthday gift for Luke. I'll contact Jabba and have the parts you need brought to you. I can fix your old one when I come back." Owen couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"When will you be back?" Beru asked quietly, gently stroking the shock of blond hair on the baby's head, and the Sith Lord shrugged.

"A few weeks. Maybe more. I need to lay low to plan my next move and-"

" _Sir_!" Cody shouted, rushing from the ship and grinning like an idiot. "He knows _all_ about Raada. His relief effort went and evacuated the entire farming community on the moon to rescue them from the Empire's activities there."

"I don't suppose he rescued a Jedi was living in that farming community," Kenobi said, bored and disbelieving, and Cody's grin grew even wider.

"You better believe he did."

* * *

In the personal hangar within the Palace of Alderaan, there was always an empty space left open. _Just in case_ , Organa always said, and everybody simply left it at that. In truth, the space was left open for the _Umbra_ , and that space was now occupied, the cargo ramp extending with a hiss as two Mandalorian warriors came striding out, one of them holding a baby, and followed closely by the largest rancor anyone had ever seen, its skin a ghostly white and long, wicked horns sprouting from its head. Servants cleared the way quickly, though nobody was afraid of the ambling beast anymore. They had seen enough of the creature to know that it wouldn't attack unless its master commanded it.

Obi-Wan strode into the living room where Breha Organa sat watching as Leia smacked the ground with blocks, laughing like a thing crazed until she rose up into the air, her brown eyes wide as she was drawn to the cause of the manipulation of the Force, and instantly began squirming and howling with laughter when she saw and felt the presence of her father and her brother. Breha rose to her feet and bowed as Obi-Wan walked over, placed a kiss on Leia's forehead, and took her out of the gentle grasp of the Force, clutched to his chest next to her brother, the two twins wriggling and grasping at each other's arms.

"Master Kenobi," Breha said softly, a gentle smile on her face. "We were expecting you, but not so soon." He flashed her a smile.

"Fastest ship in the galaxy. Probably." He sat on the ground and placed the twins among the blocks, the rancor dropping to his belly on the ground, exhaling with such force that it ruffled the children's hair, and promptly went to sleep. "Have you noticed any development of Leia's powers?" he asked softly, the twins watching with rapt attention as the Sith Lord splayed his hands before him, and the blocks around the children began to rise. Giggling in response, Luke and Leia extended their own fingers before them in imitation of their father.

"Things move on their own when she's sleeping sometimes," Breha said, watching in fascination as the blocks moved to orbit around the twins. Luke reached out and grabbed one, and promptly began to chew on it. "Little things. And not much."

"Luke's doing that as well," he said, nodding. "I'll need to take them to see Yoda sometime soon, he has more experience with baby Force sensitives than I do. The sooner they can control it, the safer they will be." He lowered the blocks to the ground and stood, and with their toys restored, the twins began the task of building together.

"Breha," a voice called as the door opened, the swift, purposeful footfalls entering the room and bringing with them Bail Organa. "Let me know when..." He stopped suddenly and stared at the room, the massive rancor sleeping in the sun that entered through the window, the clone soldier that sat at a table scrubbing the carbon scoring off his armor, the twins building an infant masterpiece on the ground, and his wife, standing beside a Lord of the Sith. Bail Organa smiled brightly, and rushed forward to take Kenobi's hand. "I was worried about you," he said, the enthusiasm in his voice making it seem as though he had never been worried at all. "That business on Umbara got very nasty very quickly. It's a bold move. An open rebellion."

"One that's too small to succeed, but give me time, and I'll use their example to ignite the Western Reaches. There are Separatist strongholds all over the place out there that think the war is still going."

"You may not need as much time as you think," Bail said, swiping his finger over a datapad and handing it to the Sith Lord. "This happened a few days ago. Cody said you've been out of galactic events for nearly three weeks, so I doubt you would have heard."

Gold eyes darted over the datapad, and slowly, a wide grin spread across Kenobi's features. "The Antar Atrocity," he read. "Antar just can't get a break, can it?"

"Massacres, all over the planet," Bail said grimly, shaking his head and his face pained. "All part of the Emperor's attempts to pacify former Separatist strongholds. Not all of Antar was loyal to the Confederacy, but the Empire made no attempt to sort them out. All of them were rounded up and slaughtered."

"And all thanks to our good friend Wilhuff Tarkin," Kenobi said, grinning as he handed the datapad back to the somber Bail. "Mass arrests, execution and slaughter. He must have taken a page from Skywalker's book, or what I did to him _really_ messed with his ability to manipulate a situation."

"Or the goal is just fear," Bail said, firm and angry. "Resistance becomes more difficult when people are afraid of retribution that severe."

"Mm, maybe in the short term, but this sort of brutality will always find opposition." Kenobi sighed wistfully. "Oh, if it was _me_ at Sidious' side, the entire galaxy would have been united by now. He _knows_ he needs a diplomatic, manipulative hand, what is he doing..." He sighed again. "Working with what he has, I suppose."

"You almost sound like you _miss_ it," Bail scoffed, and the Sith Lord shrugged.

"This should have been my Empire. I was supposed to be a part of it, and _now_..." He laid a hand on his chest and sighed dramatically. "I need to burn it all down. It feels like having to execute your own grandfather. For his own good. For _mercy_."

"Strange thing for you to long for an Empire while you're working to destroy one."

"Is it?" Kenobi said, a dark tone to his voice and his eyes glowing with greed and lust and longing. "Have the ruins of Palpatine's Empire, for all I care, establish a new Republic, if that's what you want, but _I_ will have an Empire. A _Sith_ Empire. I want to retake my palace and rule from Mustafar. I want to sit on the throne of Dromund Kaas in Sith Space. I want to rule over Ziost and Malachor and Moraband. You can have your feeble Republic. _I_ will rule from a seat of power in an Empire ruled by the Code of the Sith."

From her place on the floor, Leia shrieked with laughter and clapped her little hands together. Luke knocked the blocks over. "Well," Bail said softly, "we need to take down _this_ Empire first."

"That we do." Kenobi took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, to ease the rising Dark Side within him. "This matter on Antar will help. I can use this to make an extremely big mess."

"Some people," Bail said slowly, measuring each word before he said it, "have been talking to me. Pointing out acts of kindness in this new, cruel galaxy of ours, and when there's a concentration of them, I try to find who's behind them, and we have a little talk."

Kenobi leaned in. "And _what_ do you talk about?"

"Rebellion, Obi-Wan," Bail said softly, and the Sith Lord hissed and drew back.

"We can't, not now, it's too soon."

"Too soon, perhaps, but not too soon to begin forming an organized resistance for when the time is right! Already, I have operatives working missions to aid people that need it. The Empire will grow stronger, yes, but so will we."

"This is endangering _Leia_ ," he snarled, pointing to his twins on the floor, and Bail found himself looking into the face of not a Lord of the Sith, but a father. "If they trace this activity back to you, it will be _over_." Bail raised a hand to calm the man.

"I know. Which is why there's... _another_. I picked her up recently, and she's going to be coordinating my intelligence network. Under a codename, of course. Fulcrum. The point through which all our information passes." Kenobi's eyes widened in understanding.

"This is about Raada. This is about the Jedi you found." A wry smile came to Bail Organa's lips.

"She's in my study." Obi-Wan didn't wait for him to say another word before he sprinted out of the room and down the elegant halls of Aldera's palace. He knew the way. He had been there many times before. With a wave of his hand, he threw open the doors to the Prince's study and stopped in the doorway, breathing hard as he looked at the girl perched upon the desk, two small kyber crystals laying beside her. It wasn't the woman he was expecting. She was older, noticeably grown in the year and a half since he had seen her, the small lumps of her montrails beginning to elongate into adulthood. She stood slowly, cautiously, as if she didn't know if she was in danger or not, her hands shaking as she flooded with emotion. She didn't like this man. But her Master had _loved_ him.

"Master Quinlan told me to tell you to fix the escape pods on your ships," Ahsoka whimpered. "He says they're not made to save organics, and it's a design flaw."

Kenobi laughed shortly, his throat constricting with emotion, and he rushed to the Togruta and tightly grasped her to his chest, the former Padawan shaking as she began to sob. He was a Lord of the Sith, the cause of all that was wrong in the galaxy, but right in that moment, she felt _safe_. "I need to know everything," Kenobi said softly, waving his hand to shut the doors, and he led her to a chair, the girl sitting obediently as the Sith leaned back against the desk before her. "It's plagued me not knowing what happened to Quin." The girl sniffled, her jaw clamped firmly shut. " _Please_ , Ahsoka, I need to know how he died."

"What good will that do you?" she hissed, tears streaming down her face. She had been numb for so long, on the run for _so long_ that she never felt safe enough to feel the weight of what had happened, not just to her, but to the Jedi, to the _Force_. "What good will it do _him_."

Without taking his eyes off of her, he unclipped Quinlan's lightsaber from his belt and held it out before her, the girl's blue eyes widening in disbelief. "Tell me, Ahsoka," he said softly, "and I'll tell you how I made his murderer burn."

And she did. Slowly, at first, but as she began to talk, as she opened herself up to the pain of the mutual grief that they shared, the words came quickly through the tears, and she told him _everything_. About how Quinlan had reconciled with Asajj Ventress, and how the Nightsister had died to save the man she loved. About how Plo Koon stood against Skywalker, a fellow Jedi, to give a Sith acolyte and his former Padawan a chance to live. About how Quinlan Vos had stood bravely against Anakin just so Ahsoka could escape with the proof of Kenobi's innocence in the Stewjon massacres, proof that condemned Anakin Skywalker as a murderer. About how she had delivered that proof to the Jedi Masters, and they had never returned. About how the Temple was attacked, filled with dead Jedi and children. How she found Master Yoda with a group of younglings and provided a distraction so they had a chance to escape. How she escaped Anakin Skywalker's wrath because Captain Rex, clone of the 501st, had saved her, and she'd been on the run ever since.

In the course of her story, Bail Organa entered with the twins, the babies crying helplessly and refusing to be consoled, stopping only when the Sith Lord took them and held them close, his wrath and pain and hatred touched with warm, small hands that did nothing to lessen his fury, but instead left him feeling understood. When Ahsoka had completed her story, Kenobi pressed Quinlan's lightsaber into her palm and told her about the duel on Mustafar, and how Anakin Skywalker, then the Sith Lord Darth Vader, had been defeated, dismembered, and left to burn.

Everything, _all of it_ , was because of Ahsoka, because of Quinlan Vos' sacrifice. Because of the time that Plo Koon and Asajj Ventress bought with their lives. Order 66 was executed prematurely, too early for Kenobi's taste, but so early that it had sent Sidious scrambling to keep his plans from being completely destroyed, so early that his plans had backfired, the Force freed from his clutches when Darth Lumis walked away to achieve Mastery of the Dark Side, when Yoda and hundreds of yong Jedi survived when they would have otherwise perished. Ahsoka Tano, the presence in his visions, the curious shadow in the field of dead Jedi, the one that would come to stand beside him. It was all beginning to make sense. This was _exactly_ what the Force had intended.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself," she said softly, cradling the baby Luke as the child slept, his fingers in his mouth. "I never thought Anakin could fall like that. He was... _such_ a good friend to me..." She sniffled and shook her head when the Sith Lord remained silent. "And he replaced you. _Again_. I bet that hurts."

"It did," he said softly, holding Leia to his chest as he called upon the Force to lift the kyber crystals on the desk before him. "Where did you get these?"

"An Inquisitor," she said. "I killed him and broke his lightsaber, and I'm in need of a new one, since I gave mine to Rex." The Togruta sniffled. "I didn't even know there _were_ Inquisitors."

"There will be more," Kenobi said softly. "I think I know where they're coming from, and now that one of them is dead..." He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Organa tells me you've signed up for this little..." Kenobi sneered. " _Rebellion_ of his." The Togruta nodded. "It's far too early, the Force isn't ready, and even with the Empire reeling from the messes I've been making, they're meeting every uprising with crushing brute force. They'll extinguish the flames before they have a chance to catch fire. And now that they know _you're_ alive, little Lady Tano," he said, flicking one of the protrusions of her growing montrails, "they'll be looking for you."

"I've been in hiding for a year, _Kenobi_ ," she spat defiantly. "I killed the man they sent to hunt me."

"And _now_ ," he said softly, " _Darth Vader_ will know you're alive, and you're a _huge_ loose end. The mistake that got away. He'll be hunting for you."

"What do we do?" Bail asked quickly when he watched fear fill the Togruta, and Kenobi growled in irritation.

"We give him something he wants more to chase." Obi-Wan smiled sadly at the twins. "I've been keeping low for a while. Time to make Sidious work for it. I'll keep them busy, and it will give you time to build support for your rebellion while Palpatine is looking the other way."

"That seems excessively dangerous," Bail said softly, but Ahsoka grinned at him, fierce and determined.

"I can get you the information you need," she said swiftly. "Places to strike, people to trust. Quinlan trained me _really_ well for exactly this sort of thing." Her chest puffed with pride. "I won't embarrass him by failing."

Kenobi smirked. " _Fulcrum_."

The Togruta nodded. "Fulcrum. We'll have a rebellion ready to fight when you're ready."

Kenobi took a deep breath and looked at the relief workers before him. Introducing Bail Organa to Ahsoka Tano was a _very_ good idea. "Get in touch with Bo-Katan," he said softly. "She controls a huge territory, you'll find allies there."

"I'll contact her by the end of the week," Bail said, reaching over and writing himself a note.

"I burned worlds as the Shadow King," Obi-Wan said softly. "It may be time to become the Shadow King again." He smiled, felt the Force run through him, urging him toward this end. The Antar Atrocity, the uprising on Raada, the death of an Inquisitor, the rebellion on Umbara, the Separatist holdouts in the Western Reaches. The galaxy was primed for chaos, it just needed to be spread. "Alright," Kenobi said as he smiled. "Let's go make a mess."


	2. Inquisitorius - 17 BBY

He beat his lightsaber in furious, heavy strikes against the spinning blade, red meeting red in a clash of furious sparks as the black clad so called warrior beneath him cowered. With a cry of rage, his lightsaber cut through the circular, _ridiculous_ hilt of the woman's double sided, rotating blade, and with a hiss, the weapon shut off, leaving her defenseless as his own lightsaber cut through the flare of the back of her helmet, a thing modeled after his own. It was _pitiful_. Double-bladed lightsabers mounted within a circular, rotating hilt that reminded Darth Vader _far_ too much of the dangerous spinning blades of General Grievous, a thing the cyborg had employed to make up for his inability to feel the Force, his _inadequacy_ at never being able to wield the weapon as well as a Jedi could. That these Inquisitors employed a similar tactic only meant one thing to Vader.

They were _compensating_ for a lack of true skill. And as the man assigned to train the members of the Inquisitorius, he was personally insulted by this.

" _Not good enough_ ," Vader snarled, his vocal modulator making his voice deeper and more menacing than it had been when he was a Jedi. When _Anakin Skywalker_ was a Jedi. He was no longer that man. He hadn't been that man in a _long_ time, and his Master demanded that he let go his former self. Lumis hadn't. The stubborn Jedi that was Obi-Wan Kenobi had clung like a parasite to Darth Lumis, had turned him traitorous, had tainted the darkness with light and _ruined_ an otherwise perfect apprentice, a masterpiece of the subtlety of darkness, the personification of the Dark Side's seduction.

Or so Darth Sidious had said. As Darth Sidious _loved_ to remind him. Vader didn't doubt his Master, but Sidious hadn't been there on Mustafar. He hadn't seen what it was like, hadn't felt the panic and fear as the Dark Side filled his lungs like water, hadn't felt himself drowning as the Force fled his body to stand beside the raging, infinite wrath of darkness that was Darth Lumis. All fury and loathing and grief and agony and despair, suffering like he had never felt, grasped in the hands of a man that realized there was nothing left to chain or contain him. That wasn't a thing touched by light. That was the Dark Side personified, a beast of fury and flame and hateful focus, a creature so black, so _wretched_ that he sat and took delight in the sights and sounds of a man burning alive. Sidious was right that Lumis was corrupted, but Vader knew that it wasn't by the light.

A soft, disdainful snort from behind him drew his attention away from the Inquisitor at his feet. "It's _never_ good enough," Maul drawled from the place where he lay lounging. Vader's breath would have hitched in rage if the damned breathing regulator didn't keep his lungs expanding and contracting at consistent, ponderous intervals. Maul was an _insult_. A failed apprentice taken back to serve Sidious beside Vader, another Sith Apprentice left a mangled shell by Obi-Wan Kenobi. "Together, you are _one_ apprentice," Sidious told him often, a thing that made him burn with rage and hatred, which, Vader suspected, is why the Master did it.

Hatred for the Lord of the Sith was an important part to the growth of an apprentice, a fundamental component to the teachings of the Sith. That burning hatred would motivate him to grasp for new power, would urge him to become stronger so that one day, he may kill Darth Sidious and become Master himself. But not until he learned everything Sidious had to teach, not until all the Master's knowledge had been passed down. This was how the Sith continued to grow in strength, each apprentice coming to build upon what their Master had taught them. To kill them before their time would weaken the Sith, would mean knowledge lost, and that could not be tolerated, if the Sith were to continue to rule the galaxy unchallenged.

And Darth Lumis sought to ruin it all by _disrupting_ that delicate balance.

Maul should be dead. Vader himself should have been dead, and would have been, had there been an end to Lumis' cruelty, had there been a point where ambition and a lust for power intersected with the need to create and feed off suffering, but it never did. It should have been Lumis that now stood beside Sidious, the faithful, ambitious student, the Apprentice Victorious, at least until he killed Sidious too, as was his right, the right of _all_ Sith Apprentices that were found worthy. But Lumis was content to have _none_ of that, the desire for cruelty and chaos eclipsing Sith ambition, leading the man to ruin a thousand years of carefully created Sith planning, manipulations and machinations, and all for the purpose of treating the galaxy as his own personal _sandbox_. A plaything with which he could do as he liked. Sidious wasn't pleased. He was _never_ pleased.

And why should he be. He had been left with two apprentices, the leftovers of confrontations with the rogue Sith Lord, tattered shells of what they once had been. They would be built up again, yes, but it was slow going. It had taken Vader some time to get used to his new body, the heaviness of his limbs, the constant pain he suffered, the breathing of his mask that never gave him a moment's silence, the new, strange way the Force flowed through him. Before, he had been an open conduit, a nexus of raw power, the Force in every inch of him, but now...

 _Now_ , it swirled and buzzed in aggravation within his chest, a mighty river dammed shut by an unnatural barricade, the branches of a mighty tree butchered until only a trunk remained in memory of what had been. The Force didn't flow through his arms or his legs, and he felt diminished because of it. Anger and pain kept him strong, but it was a _fraction_ of what it could have been, what it _should_ have been had he been left whole.

And Maul, poor, _tortured_ Maul, a creature of hate and anger so consuming, it had led him to survive being cut in half, abandoned and alone for over ten years with only his wrath and madness for company. It was a thing of beauty, even diminished as he was, his cybernetic legs a constant reminder of his failure, but even that had been taken from him. In Lumis' care, Maul had lost his anger and hate, had it stolen from him by the shadowy, torturous hands of a Sith Lord that craved suffering, consumed it almost as if it sustained him, and in his wake, Lumis left Maul a gibbering wreck, a heap of twisted metal and pained flesh where a frantic, frightened, submissive mind lay trapped.

Darth Sidious called Lumis a pretender. A traitor. A menace that must be destroyed. Be that as it may, Sidious didn't see what Vader did, wasn't there on Mustafar when Lumis clung tight to the Code of the Sith and made it his own. Through victory, his chains were broken, and the Force had set him free, and in that moment, the Sith Apprentice became a Sith Master, his previous position now a vacancy that Lumis himself had filled with his defeated opponent, leaving his former Master to silently seethe, his new apprentice forced upon him, _not_ chosen. Perhaps Sidious _did_ recognize this, and merely refused to give Lumis the acknowledgment of his mastery by recognizing him, perhaps not as an equal, but as a true Sith Lord. Perhaps that was why Sidious had been so reluctant to dispatch the Inquisitors, a finite resource, or to send his own apprentices' against the man, the two half machines not yet ready to face the man that had mangled them.

Or perhaps his Master was afraid of angering him.

Vader doubted this was the case. One day, as with all things, Lumis would be crushed under the might of the Empire, order brought to chaos, as it was meant to be. As with all things, Sidious had a plan, a carefully crafted way of handling things, a talent for making certain that regardless of the outcome, things would swing in his favor. In time, Lumis would play into his hands. In time, he would be captured and made to submit, or face death, the same choice that every being in the galaxy would be forced to make. In time, Darth Lumis, Sith Master, would fall.

They just needed to find him first.

"My Lords." The voice was soft, patient, cowed somewhat, and both Vader and Maul turned to look at one of the Inquisitors, a Pau'an male, tall and pale, his yellow eyes stark and striking within black sclara. _This_ one, at least, was promising. A former Jedi Temple Guardian, one of the few that had survived and been captured after Vader's storming of the Temple two years before, and one of the even fewer that survived their corruption to the Dark Side. "The Emperor demands your attention."

Vader rose, a single wave of his hand sending the Inquisitor on the ground flying across the room. "She's a disappointment," Vader growled as he passed the Pau'an. " _Fix it_." The Inquisitor bowed respectfully, keeping his eyes cast at the ground as Vader and Maul passed by, and walked out into the cold, dark halls of the Imperial Palace.

Once, this place had been the Jedi Temple, a place of peace, of contemplation and meditation, where Jedi young and old studied the ways of the Force, peacefully practiced their skills, listened to the ebb and flow of life around them. Consorting with Sith Lords. Betraying the Republic. Screaming. _Dying_. Even now, Vader could hear the panicked shouts, the screams of terror and pain as his blade cut through old, retired Masters, stalwart Temple Guardians, wide-eyed children. He could still see the bodies on the ground, could still smell the smoke in the air as the fires burned, could still feel the rage, the _power_ that coursed through him as he did his Master's bidding, as the Dark Side was fed the blood of the light. And now, above all else, he could feel the bitter sting of _failure_.

Ahsoka Tano had been here. A grave mistake that had nearly cost him his life, a loose end that prompted the Jedi to make their final move against him. He had _seen her_ here, and she had managed to evade his fury on long legs used to running fast and running often, no doubt the result of cowardice allowed to thrive by the _filth_ Quinlan Vos. But the clones were good, and she had been hunted down and killed, her lightsaber handed to him as proof of her death. The matter had been settled, until last year.

Radda was small, unimportant, targeted by the Empire because of its rich soil that would allow them to grow crops they needed quickly, crops that would be processed into nutrition paste, crops that drained the soil dry of life. Yes, the moon would be useless after a season, but it was an acceptable loss of a small moon in the Outer Rim, and the only purpose the Outer Rim served was to provide resources to the Imperial Core, worlds that were loyal and secure, the heart of the mighty Empire. But _somebody_ cared, and that somebody was a _Jedi_. An Inquisitor, the Sixth Brother, was dispatched to investigate, and he was killed. _Killed_. The first of the Inquisitorious to meet with such a fate, before or since. And his slayer? A Jedi. A Togruta, old enough to have been a Padawan during the war.

 _Ahsoka Tano_.

He felt it was true as soon as he heard what had happened, and he had _begged_ his Master to be allowed to kill her, which Sidious quickly agreed to. Along with the Inquisitors, Vader had spent a good deal of time hunting Jedi that had escaped the judgement of Order 66, of which there were _far_ more than expected, but within the first year of Imperial rule, he and the Inquisitors had hunted down most of them, or at least the ones that couldn't resist the call to help those that suffered. Which, as it turned out, most Jedi couldn't. Ahsoka Tano's nature, both as a Jedi and as a relief worker, would get the better of her, and she would reveal herself, and when she did, Vader would be there.

But she never did. Ahsoka disappeared, and nearly as soon as she did, Darth Lumis began _very_ loudly making a mess, and had started his tour of absolute anarchy by hacking the holonet using remnants of the Separatist Shadowfeeds, a thing he had done once before during the Clone Wars, and sending the Emperor a very public threat. A threat that not only put the Sith Master on edge, but also managed to spark a wave of resistance against the Empire, small things, nothing organized, that served more to irritate and inconvenience than actually damage. I seemed innocuous at first, until the meaning became clear. Darth Lumis was _playing_ with them. This, to him, was a joke. _A game_. There were rebellions, yes, pockets of resistance that kept springing up as the Empire continued to expand, but those could be easily crushed. The real problem, Lumis' true threat, was that he was making the Imperials look like a _joke_.

He was attacking their chief weapon. _Fear_. And it was working.

"They'll never be good enough," Maul said softly, the footsteps of his cybernetic legs heavy, the sound echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings of the Palace. "The Inquisitors will never be good enough. No amount of training by you _or_ me will be enough."

"They have been doing _fine_ ," Vader growled. "They've executed dozens of Jedi in the past two years. Most Jedi of fighting age did not escape the Purge. We will not find their like much longer." Maul was silent, clearly not satisfied. "Those too young," Vader continued, "will be found sooner or later. What chance has a child in a galaxy like this when they are completely alone?"

"It's not enough," Maul said again, shaking his head, and Vader growled in irritation. Unlike Vader, Maul hadn't left Coruscant. Maul hadn't left _the Palace_. Sidious wouldn't allow it. Lumis had ruined his mind, as the Sith Lord was famous for, and along with his sense, he had taken Maul's ability to feel anger, to feel hate, to feel _rage_ , powerful and strong. He had become meek, submissive, _fearful_ , of the mind that anger was the right of the Sith, and _he_ was no Sith. He was, as Lumis said, _nothing_. Slowly, he was regaining himself, as he was regaining his speed, his strength, his skill, but sometimes, Vader sill caught him when he was alone, shivering and whimpering and moaning for his Master, and Vader didn't know which Sith he was referring to.

"The Inquisitors can handle _children_ ," Vader snarled.

"But it isn't children, it isn't _Jedi, is it_?" Maul snapped. "It's _Sith_. Cruel and brutal and vicious. They can hunt _Jedi_ , they are strong enough for that. But they are a _fraction_ of your strength, and you are a _fraction_ of our Master." He stopped, laying his hand on Vader's shoulder, and the masked man turned to face him, those eyes quivering and filled with fear. " _That_ is what we fight. A Sith Lord, and _he_ beat _us_. How are they supposed to stand against such a foe?"

Vader snarled with rage. " _They don't_ ," he spat, and with a wave of his hand, the doors to the throne room flew open, and the two apprentices' strode inside, down the center of the long, large room, and knelt before Darth Sidious, the Emperor, _their Master_. Sidious said nothing for a long while, so they didn't move, could hear the sound of his fingers as they drummed on the arm of his throne, could feel in the Force that he was _angry_. Dangerously so. He had been since Lumis sent the message.

"The bounty on Lumis," Sidious began, "has yielded results." The Master's face, shadowed by his hood, dropped into a frown when he felt both apprentices and found them unrepentant. That they didn't know _why_ yet was inconsequential. "Would you like to see?" he asked, gesturing to the side of the room where a large shipping crate was placed. With their Master's ascent, both men rose and quickly walked to the metal box, used the Force to fling away the lid, and they both looked over the edge. Inside was a tangle of severed limbs and decapitated heads resting on the thinly sliced torsos they belonged to. In the final accounting, there were twenty bodies belonging to nearly as many species, a colorful array of skin and scales and fur that would have been beautiful had the whole thing not stank of thickening blood and decaying flesh.

Maul bit his lip and looked up at Vader with a look that he knew all too well, and for once, he was grateful for his mask, a similar expression on his own face hidden by a fearsome visage. When the Emperor was angry, he took it out on those beneath him. That meant _them_.

"And dear, _sweet_ Lumis left us a note," Sidious spat, throwing the hand-written note to Vader with the Force, and he grabbed it out of the air and brought it down so Maul could see.

 _Fellow Lords of the Sith,_ it said in an elegant scrawl, _I humbly thank you for the gift. I didn't think you would be celebrating the Imperial retreat from Pendaxa as well! See if you can guess which of them I had sex with. Much love, Darth Lumis_.

Underneath the elegant curves of his signature, Lumis had drawn the smiling, decapitated head of a Twi'lek. "That's a _very_ good likeness," Maul said softly. "I didn't know Master could draw." A moment later, and Maul's eyes widened, his hands flying to his throat as he began to gasp, and Vader simply shook his head.

"One day, you may be able to count yourself among those that are not fools, Maul." Vader said, shaking his head.

" _Twenty_ ," Sidious growled, "of the finest bounty hunters in the galaxy! Of all the ruffians that answered the call, _you_ picked these as the best! _Jedi killers_ , they called themselves!" Sidious' hands tightened on his armrest, and Maul and Vader both began to gasp in pain. "They all kept _lightsabers_ from the Jedi they killed! _One of them was Force sensitive_!" Sidious groaned as he leaned back in his chair, his hand over his eyes. "Now," he bemoaned, "I'm going to have to _kill you_."

Vader and Maul gasped as they were released, the Zabrak coughing, and Vader unable to with the continuous, even intervals of his breathing apparatus. "What does it even matter, Master?" Maul gasped. "They're just bounty hunters."

" _Well known bounty hunters_ ," he snarled. "By this time tomorrow, every bounty hunter in the galaxy will know what happened. They will no longer be a resource we can exploit against Lumis." Neither apprentice said anything. They just stood with their heads bowed in shame. Sidious didn't even recognize that they were there. "Even as the Empire expands," he said, "even as our strength grows, even as we tighten our grip upon the galaxy, Lumis _mocks us_. The Empire should have been firmly established by now." He snarled viciously. "The Empire _would have been_ established by now if _Lumis_ was at my side."

Vader felt anger burn within him. _Again_ with Lumis. It was like poking at an open wound with a knife. He knew that Sidious did it, in part, to keep him angry, to keep his rage focused, to keep his powers keen and sharp. Lumis, however, lay out of Vader's reach, and Sidious made that very, _very_ clear. There wasn't a Jedi alive that could stand against Vader's might, not after two years of intense training under Darth Sidious, even in his severely diminished state. But a Jedi couldn't conjure Force Lightning like Sidious could. Like _Lumis_ could. That alone made him a _safety_ _hazard_ , as Maul liked to put it. While his suit was the finest technology available, a life support system that not only kept him living, but made him _stronger_ , Force lightning was powerful enough to short out Vader's breathing apparatus. Smaller surges and electrical impulses from standard weapons were not a problem, but _Force lightning_...

It was the shortest way to a swift end.

"The rebellions on Umbara..." Sidious droned. "The campaigns in the Western Reaches. Tarkin's _mess_ on Antar!" Sidious snarled. "I had to send him _out to the Reaches_ to get him out of the public eye! _None_ of you understand subtlety!" He lazily extended a hand, and a moment later, Maul was struck with lightning, the arches of blue seeming almost limp in comparison to the usually jagged wrath of the electricity, but Maul screamed all the same. Sidious didn't even seem angry, Vader thought, just... _frustrated_. There wasn't much even he could do about Lumis right now, save for wait for his wayward apprentice to come to him, and when he did, Sidious would be ready. As it was, and as annoying as Lumis had been behaving, one man couldn't topple an Empire, and Palpatine sent Vader to crush any defiance that arose. It was, for now, a stalemate.

"If it weren't for you, Maul," Sidious drawled, "I would have had _Satine_ by my side." Sidious almost purred when he said her name, and for a moment, Vader's thoughts drifted to Padmé, his lovely wife, dead by his hand as much as anyone else's. " _There_ was a woman that knew how to rule. She united Mandalore, ruled _thousands_ of systems, inspired love and loyalty, and she was Lumis' _leash_." The Master growled in anger. "Now, I'm stuck with Bo-Katan, and she can barely keep her empire out of the hands of the Hutts..."

"Hutt Space..." Vader began, and was quickly silenced by a hiss from his Master.

"Is too large and too wild, and we have far too many problems. The Hutts are useful, in any case," he said, steepling his fingers together as he watched the impassive Vader and the shivering Maul. "They keep Mandalore in check, for now, and disrupting their activities may lead to a resistance movement that will be _difficult_ to fully root out. We can barely handle _one man_. Think how bad a criminal Empire will be. This is to say nothing of the information they provide us. Criminals are better suited to finding fugitives than the Empire." He leaned back in his seat and smiled softly, his presence finally relaxing. "Patience, Lord Vader. In time, our Empire will be the only rule in this galaxy. Lumis is one man, and one man cannot change the flow of the tide, or when the sun rises and sets. Even he will fall to the might of the Empire."

The doors of the throne room swung open, and an Inquisitor ran in, his black mask fixed to his face and out of breath as he knelt before the Emperor. Behind him, two more Inquisitors followed, one supporting the other as they walked slowly inside. "Master," the Inquisitor said from his place on the ground. "Our Brother has returned from his mission. I think you will want to hear about this..."

Palpatine's jaw clenched as the other two Inquisitors slowly approached the throne, and when they stood before the Emperor, the woman that aided her fellow Inquisitor knelt. The man, however, did not. His helmet and mask off, his pale eyes hazy and distant, he hardly seemed to recognize where he was. Palpatine frowned deeply. This didn't bode well.

"Inquisitor," the Emperor said, soft and smooth and compelling, and the man shivered as he looked at Sidious with a vacant, blank expression. "State the purpose of your mission."

He stared at the Emperor for a long moment, his unfocused eyes drifting as he seemed to struggle to comprehend the question. "To seek out Force sensitive children," he muttered. "To be captured and corrupted."

"And what did you find? Where were you located?"

"Rodia," he said, his tongue thick in his mouth. "I found no children. But I did find _him_." Palpatine expressed nothing, but Vader could feel the room chill, a sudden snap that all but the enthralled Inquisitor keenly felt. "He stepped _out of the shadows_ ," the Inquisitor continued, but stopped suddenly as he clutched his head and groaned.

"What did he do to you?" Sidious asked, his voice even and cold with the weight of the Force so strongly behind his words that the Inquisitor lurched forward and fell to his hands and knees, gasping as he struggled to find the words to obey the Emperor's command.

"He asked questions, my Lord," he finally said. "About us. About the Inquisitorius. Where we come from. How we're trained. How many of us are in our ranks..." He looked up, gasping softly as he seemed to remember something, and he took a holodisc from a pouch on his belt. "He wanted me to give you this, my Lord."

Sidious didn't touch it for a long moment, simply looked at the disc in the man's outstretched hands. A slow sneer crossed his face, contemptuous and vastly annoyed, and using the Force, Sidious activated the device, the hologram flickering above a moment later to reveal Darth Lumis, the recorded man with an insufferable smirk upon his face, the enthralled Inquisitor at his feet, tightly grasping at the Sith Lord's hand and kissing his fingertips in his submission.

"Hello, Sidious," Lumis drawled. "I'm getting acquainted with your acolytes." He shook his head and quietly uttered a scolding sound. "I'm disappointed. They have hardly any resistance to speak of, it took no time at all to get this one to tell me _everything_ I needed to know..." Sidious hissed and kept blazing, furious eyes locked on the dazed Inquisitor. "These are hardly the Sith students that you and I planned on training together. Just what _have_ you been doing these past two years?" Lumis scoffed. "Whatever it is, it isn't ruling the Empire, the place is a _mess_!" He smiled brightly, the image seeming to _see_ the Emperor. "I'm coming for you, sweetheart. Never forget it."

" _Vader_ ," Sidious hissed, and not half a second later, the hiss of a lightsber activating reverberated through the air, the smell of burning plasma filling the air, followed swiftly by the smell of burning flesh as the crimson blade cut through the holodisc and the Inquisitor's hand, and a moment after, the haze left the man's eyes and was replaced with pain, then nothing at all as the lightsaber stabbed through his forehead to extend out the other side.

There was silence in the throne room, heavy and tense as the Inquisitors looked on in horror at their dead Brother, only the second of their ranks to die in two years. "What did the Inquisitor know?" Vader snapped at the others, and they quickly knelt upon the floor as they remembered their place.

"I don't know, my Lord!" the female said quickly. "It could have been anything, we don't know what Lumis wants!"

"He is _enjoying_ himself," Sidious said softly, a faint smile on his lips that filled the others with unease. "These are the same tactics he used against the Jedi during the war. He will be _very_ difficult to find."

"What do we do, my Master?" Vader asked softly, and Sidious was silent for a moment, his fingers steepled and pressed to his lips as he thought.

"Inquisitors," he gently commanded, and the two quickly bowed their heads. "Continue to hunt for the Jedi and Force sensitive younglings. If you see Lumis, _run_. Report his location, and see to it he doesn't catch you. If he does, your life will only serve his purpose. End it." The Inquisitors swallowed hard, but nodded. "Lord Vader."

Vader lowered himself to one knee. "Master."

"I am sending you to the Western Reaches to assist Tarkin in his campaign. Your partnership was a successful one during the Clone Wars, and it will serve us well now. You have permission to subdue the worlds of the Reaches by any means necessary. Show them what it means to resist the Empire."

"And Lumis, my Master?" Vader growled, rage burning in his chest as he saw the hated Sith before him, his image burning in his eyes, his focus sharpening until he could see nothing else. Palpatine waved a dismissive hand.

"He is of little consequence," he snapped sharply. "Lumis _could_ deal significant damage to the Empire, if that is what he wished. That he hasn't done so is telling. He is inconveniencing us, and nothing more, which means he is planning something else." He pointed a finger at Vader. "As the Empire grows, as the people learn to fear us, Lumis will lose what power he has over us. And when our rule is secure, Darth Lumis will have nowhere to go. For now," he said, leaning back and clasping his hands together, "let him have his fun. Let the galaxy know that supporting him, following his example, will have the most extreme consequences."

"It shall be done, my Master." Sidious nodded.

"Good...our greatest weapon is fear, Darth Vader. Do not forget that, and do not allow Lumis to take that from us. And if you see him..." Sidious frowned, his yellow eyes narrowing with anger. "Bring the entire Imperial fleet down upon him. Coordinate your efforts and allow no escape. You are the greatest pilot in the galaxy. _Prove it_."

That Lumis was an invisible man in an invisible ship made no difference to Vader. He had played this game with Lumis before, but this time, he had no restrictions, no Republic to stall his movements, no Jedi to get in his way. This time, he was a Lord of the Sith. This time, he would not be stopped.


	3. Truth - 16 BBY

The svelte, yellow skinned beauty sat straddling his lap, her slender hips rolling against his as she moaned desperately, _wantonly_ , but Obi-Wan wasn't giving her what she craved, what he had _made_ her crave. He was still exploring, and the creature's mind was _vastly_ interesting. And besides, he had time. He had _all_ the time he wanted. It wasn't often he went to bed with a Force sensitive, and even then, it was difficult to remember when he had. Insanity had burned in his mind when he had taken Jedi Master Shaak Ti, and though it was his right as her Master to do to her as he pleased, he rarely did out of respect for Cody, who had taken something of a liking to the enslaved Jedi.

Even three years after her death, the clone was _still_ upset about her loss, far more to him than simply the pleasure slave she originally was to him, and though Cody said he didn't love her, Obi-Wan wasn't so sure. He could have gone into the clone's mind and found out for certain, but opted against violating his friend. After all, Kenobi didn't like talking about Satine, and certainly wouldn't want Cody knowing how badly she still burned within him. Besides, he already knew, and never said a word about it. He'd earned the right to keep things to himself. The subject of Padmé Amidala was also a sensitive one.

The woman moaned as she bit at his neck, and Kenobi hissed as divine pain and pleasure rushed through him, and he looked over to see Cody opposite him in the booth and similarly engaged with a stunning blue skinned Togruta. He wasn't sure _what_ species the woman in his lap was. She could have been Mirialan, as the red markings on her face seemed to suggest, a rare, pale yellow variety instead of the more common green that he was familiar with. It made him miss Barriss and Luminara. Poor Barriss hadn't a chance against Anakin Skywalker when he had flown to Utapau to kill Grievous, and Luminara had disappeared after Order 66, gone into hiding, presumably, but neither he nor Yoda had heard anything from her, and Ahsoka's - _Fulcrum's_ \- information network had turned up nothing. It was safe to assume she was dead, but Yoda _had_ told her to hide. Kenobi hoped she was alive. They had always been close. The whole Sith... _thing_ was just a minor hitch in an otherwise splendid friendship.

The point was that _Cody_ got the better deal tonight when it came to the choice in women, but for Kenobi, this wasn't just about fulfilling the carnal urges that the Dark Side demanded of him. _This_ was about information. _This_ woman was an _Inquisitor_ , and the place they sat in was almost as important as the woman that sat on his lap. He had been here once before, a long time ago, with a different friend by his side, when he was a different man, and since he had confirmed a year ago where Sidious was drawing his Inquisitors from, he had been longing to return. And now here he was, sitting in the same booth in the same loud, smokey bar, the low lighting and the haze in the air covering the rampant drug use and the open, lusty joinings of patrons tucked into corners. The years hadn't changed Dromund Kaas from the time he had traveled there, _rediscovered it_ , with Quinlan Vos.

He'd been a different man back then. A younger man, though he didn't look it. A _Jedi_ , one that burned with passion and fire he struggled to contain, one that had only recently fashioned the red lightsaber that he still carried to this day, one that secretly harbored a love for a young duchess that he was struggling to forget, a love he _still_ carried with him, though the reasons for the distance between him and his goddess were different and far more tragic than they had been when he was young. Kenobi could scarcely believe that it was the same man, the one that had gotten so hopelessly drunk with Quinlan that he woke up the next morning with no memories of the night before and two beautiful, _naked_ women in his bed. Before that night, he had only ever been with one woman before, a secret, almost shameful thing that he had tried not to think about, but now remembered it fondly, the memories of Mandalore painful, but beautiful all at once.

 _Now_ , he had come to Dromund Kaas as a man of excess, not temperance, of deep, hungry passions in place of nervous reservations about what his reckless friend was getting himself into. Though like before, he was on a mission, and while before the two Jedi had no idea what they were looking for, Darth Lumis had come with a clear and present purpose. Before, he was here to learn about the Sith. Now, he was here to irritate them.

The battles in the Western Reachers weren't going well. With Kenobi's active involvement in causing chaos, Sidious had sent not just the might of the Empire, but the might of the Sith down upon him, the dangerous duo of Tarkin and Vader crushing opposition faster than Kenobi could create it. Fighting the Empire wasn't like fighting the Republic. Sidious no longer had much of a need to keep up appearances, and outcry over brutal tactics was swiftly met with arrest or execution, and soon enough, opposition in his own government had died. During the Clone Wars, Kenobi had, on more than one occasion, captured ships and stolen them for his own use, but the prospect of doing such now was difficult, since Kenobi had no doubt that his former Master would order a hijacked ship to be destroyed immediately. It made the prospects of escaping dismal.

Once, and only once, Obi-Wan hadn't gotten off a planet quick enough, and the Imperial fleet had arrived, and with it came Darth Vader, the Sith Lord playing to his strengths and _never_ leaving his starfighter. Obi-Wan had barely escaped the system before Vader's reenforcements closed in, an armada so large that Lumis had been _certain_ that it was the bulk of the Imperial Forces in the Western Reaches, and after he had come out of hyperspace in a different system, he found Imperial ships waiting for him, and Vader close behind. It had taken six more jumps to escape the relentless Sith Lord, and the close call had prompted a change of pace.

The _Umbra_ was faster than the TIE Advanced the other Sith flew, but Vader was, loathe as he was to admit it, a superior piolet than Kenobi, if only slightly, and that more than made up for an inferior ship. He had gotten cocky, perhaps overestimated his ability to hold the Empire's rapid expansion at bay, underestimated the strength of his enemy. He needed a different approach. One that played to his strength, not Sidious'. One that was safer. One that could allow room for his eventual rebellion to slowly grow, instead of fizzle out in small pockets of resistance that were quickly destroyed. One that gave him a better chance of seeing his children again.

Contested areas saw far too much Imperial activity. He needed to exist and operate _within_ the Empire, the shadow in the darkness of the Empire, and _that_ was a thing he was good at. After a few months of careful planning and keeping out of sight, bouncing between Dagobah and remote worlds in Hutt Space with Luke and Leia, he was finally ready with a plan, the information driving this plan taken out of the minds of one of Sidious' Inquisitors. They were looking for him frantically in the Western Reaches, where pockets of vicious Separatists still fought the battles of the Clone Wars that had long since been over, and with their attention elsewhere, it gave Kenobi the chance to walk the streets of Dromund Kaas, ancient capital of the Sith Empire, and the place from which Sidious drew his Jedi hunters. And lucky for Obi-Wan, the people of Dromund Kaas still _loved_ Mandalorians.

He and Cody had tracked this Inquisitor for days on the planet, made her routine known to them, and when she met with her Togruta informant in the bar that Kenobi had such... _non-memories_ of, they followed them in, made their introductions, and by the time Kenobi had removed his horned Mandalorian helmet, the Inquisitor and her informant were already under his sway. Which was why, after he was done with the Mirialan-looking Inquisitor, he felt that Cody had to share the Togruta. It was only fair, he wouldn't have had her if Kenobi didn't will it anyway. He _owed_ him. Kenobi looked at the woman that straddled him, her forehead on his chest as she panted and tried in vain to control the maddening lust within her, and he grabbed her hips with a firm grip, drawing her closer with a possessive growl, and she excitedly keened her want.

Kenobi's thoughts couldn't help but drift to Luminara, his lost friend, and wondered briefly if she would look similarly flushed with passion. He suspected not. She was a Jedi Master, a creature of restraint and control, not the untethered creature of passion and rage and lust and hunger that those who embraced the Dark Side were. She wouldn't engage in such activities, even though he _did_ tease her about it, both before he was Sith and after, though there had always been rumors about the two of them back when he was a Jedi, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if he'd enjoy this more if he imagined this Inquisitor were the Mirialan Master instead.

But probably not. She was likely dead anyway. But if she were _alive_...

Kenobi recognized it as a grim and morbid thought the moment he thought it, but couldn't help doing so. There were no Jedi anymore. That time was over, the Jedi Order dead and dismantled for three years now, the only ones left that followed the way of the light a few rogue knights that would be soon dead, a tiny green old man living in a swamp, and an army of children too young to know what being a Jedi truly meant. They were dead. Perhaps even the stalwart Luminara would understand that, would abandon the unwritten rule of the Jedi's cold Code and seek physical comfort with another. And if they ever found her, maybe she would seek it with him.

It wasn't that Kenobi _wanted_ something deep and meaningful. He had his chance with Satine, and lost that right the moment Maul pierced through her and their son with his bloody blade. And for a small moment, he had it with Padmé, the very memory of her soured and made bitter by what he had to do to her. And now, there was nothing. Blazing, furious passion that drove him to dominate and control and release deep within a submissive, mewling body, but he had missed the connection with his partner that he had with people he knew and cared deeply about. With the random, hopelessly beautiful women he had taken these past three years, his connection had been with the Dark Side, an obsessive drive to satisfy his own satisfaction that made him blind to the needs of his partners. Those needs were _always_ met, of course, but it was never about _them_. It was about _him_ , as it was now.

Kenobi whistled sharply as he stood, the Inquisitor sliding off his lap with a desperate whimper, and Cody looked over at him with the most irritated look Kenobi had ever seen. "Cody, get up, we're leaving."

Jaw slack, the clone looked at the Sith Lord, then to the Togruta beside him, and then back to the Sith. "You have _got_ to be kidding."

"Of course not. We're leaving, take the girl, she's coming with us." Kenobi turned his attention back to the Inquisitor, but watched the clone out of the corner of his eye as a cocky smile slid across his face and he grabbed the Togruta's long lekku, allowing it to slide through his hand, and the woman moaned loudly. A Togruta had been his lover for two years. He knew _exactly_ how they worked. "Would you like to come with us, pet?" Kenobi asked the Inquisitor softly, one long finger under her chin, and she nodded eagerly. Kenobi slid his helmet back on, his golden eyes piercing through the dark visor and glowing with hunger. "Come on then."

He strode out of the bar, the enthralled women following their Mandalorian seducers. Just as it was the first night he had spent in the city, the darkness of night was broken by the ever persistent flashes of lightning, the result of experiments conducted by the Sith Emperor Valkorion, a man that Lumis greatly admired and aspired to reach his heights. He, too, had been immortal, or very close to it, and Obi-Wan's own talents in mind manipulation had been learned from Valkorion's holocron, an artifact that he still kept in his possession. There could be much he could learn here in the Sith Emperor's ancient city. He'd have to return some time in the future.

"You're going to _love_ our ship," Cody drawled to the woman by his side, and Kenobi quickly snapped his head in the clone's direction.

" _How_ many times do I have to tell you, Cody? No sex in the _Umbra_!" There was silence for a moment, the clone stopping in his tracks, and then he rushed to catch up to the Sith and the women, speaking in fast, irritated tones about this great injustice, a speech that he had well practiced and rehearsed, so many times did they have this discussion. Occasionally, he would find something new to add to his list of grievances, and the tirade would become longer. After three years, it now clocked in at close to ten minutes, more than enough time to walk from the bar to the luxury hotel across the central plaza. Kenobi tuned the clone out. His mind was set on the matter, and Cody knew the reasons why, but hope sprang eternal within the clone, and Kenobi suspected that his faithful friend just wanted to have something to complain about.

The hotel there were staying at was wildly expensive, a significant upgrade to the seedy establishment attached to the bar that he and Quinlan had stayed in during their time here, but having the best was a simple thing when a slight wave of the hand and a smooth command got him anything he wanted. He felt he deserved the best. He _was_ a Lord, after all, and he would be having a _very_ difficult day very soon, much sooner than he would have liked, but time waited for nobody.

Obi-Wan found his thoughts drifting to Luke and Leia, as they so often did. His children were growing so fast, their powers developing quickly, and he had already begun walking them through some very basic training, mostly in concealing their presences', which they immediately showed talent in. At three years old, they were still too young to understand what it was they meant to him, what it is he had to do, what had become of their biological parents. Already Leia was beginning to ask about her mother, not Breha Organa, but the mother that brought her into this world. Luke hadn't yet, but he would soon enough, and Obi-Wan hoped that they would understand that family was so, _so_ much more than blood, that where they came from didn't matter, that they father they grew up knowing was the only one they would ever need.

They would make that decision on their own, when they were old enough, and if they were to know the truth, so must the two families that were helping him raise them and keep them safe, and that time was fast approaching.

He was in for a hard day. He felt entitled to having some fun _tonight._

As soon as the door to the large, luxurious suite closed and locked behind them, Kenobi reached out to grasp the Inquisitor's mind, the woman shivering as he reestablished and secured his control over her. Cody immediately pulled the Togruta away and into an adjoining room, the door closing firmly behind them, leaving the Sith to do his work. With a sly, predatory smirk, he circled the Inquisitor, golden eyes glowing with lust and hunger as he raked through her willing mind.

"Do you know who I am?" Kenobi asked softly, the woman's unfocused eyes drifting to him and looking at the Sith with mindless adoration and lust so strong he could feel the Dark Side pulled to her, a hungry beast preying on passion uncontrolled. "Oh, come now," he gently scolded when she responded to him with a soft, pitiful moan, words failing her in the haze of the Dark Side. "You're an _Inquisitor_. Have some pride, some _respect_. You're supposed to be a representative of the Dark Side, so look inside yourself and find the name of your Master."

The Inquisitor swayed on unsteady legs, her jaw clenching as she struggled to follow the Sith's command, her eyes slipping in and out of focus as she looked at the face before her, far too young to command the mastery that he did. "You're Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said, her voice thick as she fought against the haze the Sith caused in her mind. "The Separatist leader. The Negotiator."

"Mm. You know me by a different name, yes?" he asked smoothly, and the woman shivered, a whimper in her throat that screamed her submission.

"Darth Lumis. Lord of the Sith."

"And?" he asked, sing song and expectantly, and the woman moaned when her mind gave way to the man that rushed through her mind like he owned it. Which he _did_.

" _Master_."

"Kneel." She dropped to the floor with a groan and leaned into the Sith's touch when he laid a hand on her head. "Tonight," he said slowly as he circled around her, taking in the sight of the woman and his breath quickening as his blood rushed with power and burning lust brought on by the depths of the new awakened Dark Side. He had been playing before, but now the darkness would have what it was owed. "Tonight, you're going to give me _everything_. You're going to pleasure me in _every_ way you know how, until every part of you is filled with nothing but _me_ , understand?: A sinister grin crossed his face when the woman absently nodded and laid a hand on the armor and robes that covered the space between his hips. " _And_ ," he chirped, "We're going to send a recording of it to the Emperor! _For his birthday_!"

"That's so good of you, Master..." she muttered, whining in frustration when she reached around to undo his armor and couldn't find the straps and fastenings underneath the black robes woven into it.

"Mm, I know. Poor Darth Lumis never gets the appreciation he deserves for being so _thoughtful_." He hooked his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him, a pleasured and fearful shiver running through her as she met piercing, hungry eyes. "In the morning," he began softly, his voice low and commanding and laced with the menace of the Dark Side, "you will take me to your Temple. I was there once before, a long time ago. Twelve people died by my hand that day."

"It's your right..."

"Yes, it _is_ ," he hissed, his fingers tightening on the gasping woman's chin. "But I go there for a different purpose now. This time, you are all going to kneel before me. This time, every single one of Sidious' dark acolytes will call _me_ Master. I'll record that too, I'm sure he's going to _love it_."

"And nobody will die?" she asked softly, and Lumis looked at her carefully, her eyes unfocused but filled with... _concern_ , perhaps.

"By my hand?" A small smile touched his lips as he chuckled. "I'll demand a sacrifice, of course. _Tribute_ , if you will, for not slaughtering the lot of you, I'm going to consume the Force itself from the strongest among you, it's been _so long_ since I've fed that particular hunger, and you Force sensitives are so much more potent..." It had only been a few years, and Kenobi felt it was long enough. Of all the addictions the Dark Side inspired, this one was the worst, the most dangerous, the easiest to fall into. Even now, just at the _thought_ , he could feel his body crave it, could feel his mind flood with a preemptive high in anticipation for what would soon be his. It was no wonder Darth Nihilus became what he did. So far, temperance on this matter had worked. Stopping wasn't an option, he'd just have to continue to manage the addiction.

With a wolfish grin, he unfastened his belt and the top straps of his armor, quickly discarding his chest plate and the robes woven into them. "Well?" he asked softly. "What are you waiting for? Get to it."

With an almost frantic whine, the Inquisitor hooked her fingers around the belts and straps of his armored legs. Sidious was going to _writhe_ when he saw what his wayard student had done. It was going to be a _very_ good night.

* * *

" _He's what_?!" Owen cried, looking in bewilderment at the Sith Lord. Kenobi didn't look at him. He kept his eyes focused on his work, a giant, mechanical creation that sat heavy upon the workbench in the Lars garage. The speeders, both the new one and the old one that had been repaired and refurbished, had been moved out to make room for the device. It was a vaproator, or would be one shortly. Kenobi had aquired the schematics of the devices that filtered the limited water out of Tatooine's hot, dry air, an extremely valuable resource farmed by extremely expensive machines. Owen kept _many_ on his land, and sold the majority of the water he harvested to nearby Anchorhead, though his machines were old and damaged by sand and sun, and they had been forced to compete with another farmer by the name of Gault, who was far more wealthy and worked with machines that were state of the art.

Kenobi found it offensive, and upon his return from Dromund Kaas, hd set himself to the task of learning how the damned things worked so he could build a better one for the man that cared for his son. If Luke was going to be spending a fair deal of his childhood in this miserable, insignificant desert, he was going to have the very best. Also, he was hoping that the gesture would soften the blow of the news he had to share. As fun as his time in Dromund Kaas had been, he had to return to life eventually, and that meant having a very necessary talk with Owen Lars and Bail Organa. For the children. _Always_ for them.

Owen was too stunned to say anything when Kenobi didn't answer, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence, save for the even breathing and low, menacing growl of the rancor, the beast taking up half the space of the room. More than once, Bail began to say something from his place by the wall, but stopped himself every time. He wasn't sure why Kenobi had asked for his presence as well, since he had already known the dark fate of Padmé's secret husband, though he suspected there would be an equally awkward reason.

Over the course of the three years he had known Kenobi, he never knew the man to be open or honest, and a conversation like this was something to be nurtured with understanding so similar behavior could be encouraged. As for the Prince's presence, _well_...Kenobi probably wanted to consolidate uncomfortable truth into one single conversation. He was nothing of not efficient. Owen's wife had been asked not to attend this talk, which Bail was secretly grateful for. Young Beru Lars had been _fawning_ , struck with wonder at having a _prince_ in her home, and he hadn't been able to divert the woman's attention elsewhere for more than a moment.

He took a deep breath, began to speak, and stopped again, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall, smiling awkwardly at Cody and his teenage son when the two began to chuckle. He smiled as he watched Luke crawl over the pieces and parts on the work bench, taking tools and components into his hand, standing, and toddling on slightly unstable legs to deliver them to his father's hand, the three year old's blue eyes staring in rapt attention as the Sith Lord worked. Smiling, Bail shot a protective glance toward Leia, the little girl's hair a mess as she stood on the rancor's lip and grabbed on to it's large, sharp, jutting fangs. Despite the beast's growing, Leia was unafraid, almost as if she intuitively knew that Yoda was growling not at her, but in response to anger toward his Master.

"Anakin Skywalker," Kenobi said finally, softly, as if it was some dull thing hardly worth mentioning, "is alive. _Technically_."

"Technically!" Owen shouted, his hands quivering in rage and oblivious to the snarl of the rancor. Leia shrieked with laughter as she hung off the fangs. "What does that mean? If he's alive, his son-"

" _My son_!" Obi-Wan hissed, standing from his chair and snatching Luke from the table, the boy's eyes suddenly wide and uncertain as he gripped the Sith's robes as if his life depended on it. "Luke is _my son_! Your brother gave up that right a _long_ time ago!" Owen was too furious to speak, and inched away from the rancor when it's large, black eyes began to swirl with red and yellow, feral and dangerous. Bail made a move to grab for Leia, but backed off quickly when the beast snarled viciously, the little girl grasping tightly to Yoda's nose. Kenobi wasn't worried, and neither was the girl. She was in no danger, it seemed.

Luke, confused, looked between his suddenly warring caretakers, blue eyes wide with concern, the look about him like he had done something wrong. "Daddy?" he asked, peering up at the man that held him. "You mad?"

It seemed to take all of the anger out of the Sith Lord, his hard, darkened features softening considerably as he looked at his son and smiled softly, almost sadly. "No, I'm not mad," Kenobi said, planting a kiss to the boy's blond head. "Daddy's had to make some difficult choices that he hasn't had to face until now." Luke blinked, not understanding, and Leia let go of the rancor's nose, falling to the ground in a heap, but quickly rose, brushed herself off, and scampered over to hug the Sith's leg upon feeling the distress of her father and brother. Obi-Wan picked her up, and sat back down in his seat, the twins perched upon his legs.

"Why?" Leia asked, looking at him with Padmé's big, brown eyes, and he sighed. This was... _difficult_.

"Because," he said slowly, "it hasn't come up. Because _I_ haven't brought it up. Because you two are more important, and it hadn't mattered until now that you are beginning to ask questions. One day, you will be old enough to understand, and when that day comes, it will be easier if the adults in your life haven't been lying."

"You shouldn't lie," Luke said proudly, and Leia simply shrugged her little shoulders.

"Only sometimes," the little girl said, and Luke wrinkled his nose.

Kenobi smiled and held them closer, ignoring the increasingly angry Owen and the growling of the rancor that matched him. "You shouldn't lie to _family_ , yes," Obi-Wan said softly. "That's why we're here."

"You knew," Owen gasped. " _You knew_! This whole time, Anakin's been alive, and you didn't think to _say anything about it_!"

"He is alive, yes," Kenobi said softly, looking pointedly at the farmer. "But not to you." Owen looked at him, bewildered and confused, his temper growing, and Obi-Wan put up a hand so the man would hold his silence for a moment longer. "Anakin Skywalker died. Everything he was is gone, replaced by something else. Something..." He scoffed softly, a smile coming to his face. "Something like me."

"Jedi Master Yoda told me," Bail cut in, and Owen looked at him, almost pleading to hear _something_ good. "He said that Anakin fell to the Dark Side."

"I don't know what that means," Owen said, shaking his head, and Obi-Wan sighed.

"Put as simply as possible, your brother is solving problems with murder." He shrugged. "It's effective, if nothing else. But know this. Anakin Skywalker is dead. They call him Darth Vader now"

Owen stared in disbelief at the man. He didn't understand any of this. He _never_ understood any of this. But he understood murder, and he _knew_ Anakin was capable of it. He'd seen it on the night their mother died. Anakin had run out and killed six of the Tuscans in the camp that night, a surprise attack that only saw two try to fight back while the rest turned and ran, and it was Owen that shot the two fighters. Upon seeing a weapon they didn't understand prove fatal to the touch, the Tuscans had avoided Anakin and his lightsaber, opting to run instead. And the last time he had seen him, he was _so angry_. Owen had tried to help, but Anakin had made him _very_ nervous. There had always been a streak of darkness in Anakin, but Owen had thought the Jedi were helping with that.

The farmer's face darkened, but the Sith Lord was ignoring him, focusing instead on the two children that lay now sleeping in his arms, soothed by his presence and the strong, slow beating of his heart. " _You did this_ ," he hissed, the rancor finally beginning to rear up until Kenobi extended his hand and immediately calmed the creature.

"That's at least partially true," Obi-Wan said softly. "But not entirely. The Jedi and the man that's currently his Master are to blame as well. The Jedi set him up as the counter-balance to me, which forced him to have to deal with me, which was a _serious_ mistake, but it was Sidious that twisted him into what he became."

"And you?" he growled. "What did you have to do with it."

Kenobi looked at the ground. "A great deal, I'm afraid, and all for reasons that will look like excuses to you."

"He said you cut off his arm!" Owen said, desperate and horrified, and the Sith's eyes seemed to brighten.

"I did," he said softly. "Though that has little bearing on this. Severing his arm never pushed him toward darkness." He held the twins closer. "But I did take his wife from him. A thing he could have handled had his Master not been killed, and after..." He trailed off as he looked down to his sleeping kids. "After that, it was over for him. Sidious had already gotten deep within him, filled him with suspicion and doubt that had been planted _long_ ago, and when he found out she was pregnant, he... _questioned_ their lineage, if you will. Rightfully so, perhaps, but she had been tested, and broke things off with me when she found out."

"You are a _snake_ ," Owen growled, and Kenobi nodded ad he looked over at Bail Organa, his back pressed against the wall and his jaw tight. It was _possible_ that he knew about this, but not terribly likely.

"Yes," Obi-Wan whispered. "But not for that. I wanted to take what was his, yes, but Sidious made it possible. When I broke his hold on her, she and I stopped being lovers." He paused. "For a time..." Finally, he met Owen's eyes again. "Until Skywalker threatened to kill her children if they were mine, or if he suspected them of being _corrupted_ by me."

"No," Owen said, shaking his head and backing away. "No, you're _lying_."

"We wouldn't be having this conversation at all if I intended to lie, Lars," Kenobi growled. "I've got a friend that's a _ghost_ that'll confirm everything I'm saying." His eyes narrowed as Owen's widened. "Oh yeah, didn't you know? _I'm haunted_." He scoffed and waved his hand in the air dismissively.

"I saw it," Cody said softly from his place on the wall, and all eyes turned to him. "I was there on Mustafar when Skywalker came to kill Kenobi. I watched him choke his wife with a gesture. I saw the body of my lover on the ground after Skywalker _killed_ her when she stepped forward to defend Padmé and her children." His eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at the stunned farmer. "Don't you _dare_ judge Kenobi for what he had to do to save the children that he _chose_ to raise."

"Enough, Cody," Obi-Wan said softly."My part in Skywalker's fall cannot be denied, though I had never thought he would. It was certainly never the intent. Had he done as we all expected, I would have killed him, and this is a conversation we wouldn't be having because the twins would be dead, along with their mother." Obi-Wan was silent as he looked away for a moment, and Owen couldn't help but feel...sad. There was a melancholy within the adoptive father of little Luke. Perhaps, in some way, he was trying to atone.

"Can we help Anakin?" Owen asked quietly, and Kenobi shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. Not by me, at least, and certainly not by you." Kenobi sighed heavily, weariness overcoming him. "I saved Padmé from Anakin, just as I'm saving her children from him now," the Sith said softly. "They need to be kept secret. They need to stay safe. I promised their mother they would be safe in my care, and they will be." Owen said nothing. "Which brings me to this, Prince of Alderaan," Obi-Wan said slowly. "I killed Padmé _._ "

Bail found his comfortable leaning against the wall suddenly became a lean of support as his legs went to jelly and his heart hummed in his chest. " _You_?" he finally managed to gasp, but Kenobi wouldn't look at him. " _You_ killed her? You said you saved her from Anakin! She died from-"

"Causes unknown, I know," Obi-Wan said softly. "It was an easy thing to have written off. _Everything_ is easy if you can make people believe anything."

"You are a _murderer_!" Bail growled, pushing off the wall, but he didn't move forward, didn't make another sound when the twins shifted and slowly began to cry in their sleep. A quick look at Kenobi's face showed Bail an expression he had never seen from the man before. _Regret_.

"A murderer, yes," Obi-Wan whispered. "I've killed many people. More than anyone alive today, save for Emperor Palpatine. But her life is the only one I didn't want to take."

"Then _why_!' the Prince snarled, but the Sith Lord just shook his head.

"Don't ask me why I did what I did. I won't cheapen her death by offering excuses."

"Is that really all you have to say?!" Bail snapped, and Kenobi finally met his furious gaze with anger of his own.

"I don't _need_ to tell you anything, Bail. I didn't need to tell either of you these things. If I wished it, I could enter your minds and alter your memories, I could make you believe _everything_ I did was right and justified. But instead, I came to you with the _truth_ , because I won't have my children raised on lies that may one day be used to hurt them." He took a deep breath and clutched the children closer. Everything I do, _everything_ is for Luke and Leia..."

"And depriving them of their mother is supposed to _help them_?!" Bail gasped in disbelief, and suddenly, everything fell in place for Owen as he looked at Obi-Wan, filled not with regret, but sadness, a look that he had seen often on his own mother when she thought of Anakin. He may have been a murderer, but for a moment, he just looked like a father, a man willing to make any sacrifice, no matter how great, for the safety of his children.

"Because of Anakin," the farmer whispered, and when the Sith Lord suddenly stilled, he knew he had the right of it, and from the look of it, the Prince of Alderaan slowly began to understand as well.

"You think he'd come after her," Bail said softly. "He'd know about the twins and they wouldn't be safe, is that it?" Kenobi said nothing. "You could have saved her," he insisted, more hurt and sad than angry now. "You could have done something else!"

"Maybe so," Obi-Wan whispered. "But I did the best I could with what was given to me. I promised to keep her children safe, and her sacrifice was the fastest, surest way." He chuckled softly, a pained sound that grated within his throat. "I've spent many nights thinking about what I could have done different, but I always come back to what I did as the best solution to Luke and Leia's safety. _Always_."

"Why bring this up, why now?" Owen asked, slowly stepping closer once again and keeping eyes on the rancor, though the beast had stopped growling.

"The children are beginning to ask questions about their mother," Kenobi said swiftly. "It's difficult to talk about what happened without mentioning Skywalker as well, and it's _dangerous_ to talk about Skywalker without talking about Vader."

"This isn't a thing for _children_ to hear!" Bail gasped, appalled, but Kenobi shook his head.

"I won't lie to them, they need to know the truth. _All of it_. They won't be children forever, and the Force has a way of converging on itself." He took a deep breath and looked down at the children he cradled. "One day, they're going to stand against Darth Vader, and when they do, I want them to know exactly what it is they face. Information is power, and Sidious understands that better than most. I won't have him use this against my children."

They were silent for a long while, the Prince and the farmer standing quietly with their own thoughts, their own doubts, their own anger as they watched the man quietly begin working on the machine before him, the twins tucked safely against his body. The man had surprised them both, time and time again, and they had seen first hand the love that he had for children that he had no obligation to beyond the promise he had made to a woman he never truly loved. Where all else failed, Obi-Wan Kenobi loved Luke and Leia. That much was certain.

"So what now?" Bail asked softly, his face serious when Kenobi looked up from his work. "The fighting has-"

"We've lost the battles in the Western Reaches, you must see that," Obi-Wan said quietly. "I'll be changing my tactic. It seems senseless to get potential rebels killed in displays of resistance now when we can collect them after the Empire has established dominion." A sad smile drifted on to his face when Bail frowned. "We fight the rising tide, Bail. We cannot stop it. But if we are patient, if we bide our time and gather our strength quietly, we may just live to see the tide recede."

"You're giving up?" the prince asked in disbelief.

"No. No, I'll be infiltrating the Empire and doing everything in my power to wreck them from the inside. I did that to the Jedi and the Republic, and I can do it to the Empire. After all, I helped build this. I can take it apart, but not with brute force."

"Hey, boss?" Boba Fett said quietly, the boy finally speaking up after quietly observing. "I can talk to Jabba about utilizing his network to smuggle aid to places in need of it. Keep an ear open for discontent and potential allies, that sort of thing. If the galaxy is going to belong to the Empire, we'll need an underground, and Jabba's got one established."

A slow, sly grin spread across Kenobi's face. "Who taught you to be so clever, Fett? It couldn't have been your father."

"Couldn't have been you either, sir," Cody grumbled in return, and Obi-Wan just laughed and looked at the occupants of the room. There was anger and pain here, but in time, it would pass, he knew. The children wouldn't be punished for the sins of their father, biological or adopted, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Beru said something about making dinner," Owen grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, because we have royalty here. We better go up before she really outdoes herself." The prince nodded, a smile on his face as he gently took the sleeping twins from the Sith and left the garage, the two clones filing out behind him. Owen stopped in the doorway. "You coming, Kenobi?" he gruffed, watching as fast, deft hands adjusted and connected wires on the machine that already looked magnificent, far superior to anything he kept on his land currently. Far better than anything he had ever seen.

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan said softly. "I need to get this done before I leave, and I don't think I'm the most popular man at the moment. Best to stay out of the way."

Owen scoffed. "You were _never_ popular." Obi-Wan chuckled softly, but otherwise didn't move from his place. "...I've never been a man for lies," Owen started, "and truthful, good people don't need to clean up messes like this."

"I'm not a good man, Owen," Kenobi whispered. "I've never claimed to be."

"No, you aren't." The farmer sighed. "But you love Luke and Leia, that much is clear, so you can't be all bad, and just because _I_ don't lie doesn't mean I don't know how hard the truth can be. It was...a hard thing to do, what you did today. I don't like you, Kenobi, but I can respect you."

A smile tugged on the corner of Kenobi's lips, but it never seemed to form. "High praise, especially coming from you."

Owen nodded. "I'll bring you some food, and we'll talk about Anakin, alright? I need to hear it all. From the beginning." Obi-Wan scoffed.

"It's a long story." The farmer shrugged.

"I have time." He motioned with his head toward the door. "Better yet, come on up. You can tell us all. We all need to hear it." With a slow, cautious nod, Obi-Wan pushed away from the work bench and followed Owen into the house, and deep within him, he could feel the warmth Qui-Gon's silent approval.


	4. Unity - 15 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am SO SICK!!! This chapter was going to be up yesterday, but stomach flu got in the way of that. Sorry! Still sick, so...expect slower progress for a few days. I think? Alright, that's it. Nap time. Enjoy!

The battles in the Western Reaches weren't going well. Control of the entirety of the Outer Rim _wasn't going well_. Tarkin had said as much to Emperor Palpatine, had said their expansion was too rapid, their reach too large, at least for now. It was easy enough to maintain control of the Core Worlds through the Mid Rim, though there had been some trouble earlier that year with worlds that had once belonged to the Separatists, like Cato Neimoidia, but the resistance there had been quickly crushed when Palpatine had dropped Vader on the planet. But the Outer Rim was too large, too lawless, too wild, and while controlling planets that lay near major hyperspace routes could be quickly reinforced was not so difficult, the more distant planet were both difficult to reach, and answered to another authority.

Bo-Katan Kryze sat across from Tarkin now at his home on Eriadu, with Darth Vader standing as sentry beside the only door out of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his breathing the only sound in what otherwise would have been silence as the Mandalorian sipped at her tea. If she was unnerved by the presence of the dark, intimidating figure, she didn't show it. As a major galactic power, Mandalore feared very little, and Palpatine had made it clear they were a necessary part to maintaining control in the Outer Rim. They were an important alliance, at least for now. In time, even Mandalore would come to serve the Empire. They practically already did, and by maintaining the hard hand of Bo-Katan's rule in the vast region of their territory, the Empire could focus on other things.

Mandalore, of course, was kept in check by the Hutts, the criminal empire that was quickly gaining power within Mandalorian Space, the wild, lawless region that they used to rule, and now quietly fought for control over. Within the last year, Palpatine had formed something of an alliance with Jabba, a move that Tarkin found distasteful, but necessary. In exchange for turning a blind eye toward their activities, the Hutts would feed information to the Empire regarding anti-Imperial activities in the vast and lawless Outer Rim, which allowed the Empire to send troops to swiftly deal with the problems. So long as they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, the Hutts were free to continue their business, the somewhat orderly criminal hierarchy vastly preferable to the lawlessness that would arise if the Hutts _didn't_ manage the bulk of criminal activity in the galaxy.

Tarkin _didn't_ trust Jabba, and he most certainly didn't trust Bo-Katan, but the two kept each other in check, Bo-Katan by keeping Jabba's activities from becoming too brazen, and Jabba by diminishing the Mandalorian might by _employing_ many of the warriors as bounty hunters, not to fight against their own people, but to fight against criminals that the Hutts opposed. Neither were a threat to the Empire, and their growing symbiotic relationship was becoming something of an asset to maintaining order and control, both through patrols of the sectors that the Imperials simply did not yet have the manpower to regulate, and by keeping to local lawless controlled. It was a relationship that Palpatine had spent a great deal cultivating, so the reason for this meeting was unclear to Governor Tarkin, though he quickly agreed to meet with her when requested.

Finally, the Mandalorian set her tea cup down and looked at Tarkin with hard green eyes, cold and ambitious and fearsome. "Seems to me like you have a problem maintaining your Empire," she said casually, and Tarkin bristled as he stiffly laughed.

"We have no such problem."

"You do." Her statement left no room for doubt, no room for anything other than the cold, hard truth of the matter. "Fighting in the Western Reaches which, by the way, is nowhere close to over. No control over the Outer Rim, which you claim to hold dominion over. My boys returned from Takodana the other day, and many there don't even know that there _is_ an Empire." She smiled sweetly when the man's brow furrowed with frustration. "Not to mention the fact that your Emperor has allied himself with the _Hutts_..."

"Their influence in the Outer Rim territories is uncontested," he said briskly. "Even by you."

"Even by us," she agreed. "In times of peace, my people turn to bounty hunting, and much of that is run by the Hutts. Mandalore was stronger when the Shadow King supported us," she said bitterly, and Tarkin could see Vader tense, his gloved, mechanical hands clenching into fists.

"Speaking of which..." Tarkin said, soft, but menacing. "Your _Shadow King_. Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's been making a bit of a mess, hasn't he?"

Bo-Katan shrugged. "That _is_ what he does, isn't it? It's what he's _always_ done. But why should you care? From what I understand, since your reach has extended across the galaxy, he's become less combative and more of a nuisance."

" _Nuisance_?" Vader snarled, his voice a low, metallic snarl behind his mask, and Tarkin shot him a warning look that went ignored by his wrathful companion. "Sabotaging Imperial operations, destruction of Imperial property, assaulting Imperial troops and spreading seditious sentiment is _not_ a nuisance, it's _treason_ against the Empire!"

"A small portion of a _very_ long list, I can assure you," Tarkin said, leaning in. "We think you may be involved with him."

"Oh yeah?" Bo-Katan asked, nonplused, picking up her empty teacup and glaring at it with disdain.

"You have been in the past," Tarkin said quickly, raising his hand to keep a growling Vader from advancing. "Kenobi's involvement in Mandalore is well known."

"His _past_ involvement," the woman said, the edges of her voice sharp and biting. "Obi-Wan was involved with us for only so long as he had a personal investment. He hasn't set foot on Mandalore since my sister died, and he helped lead my people for only as long as it took him to satisfy his revenge." She crossed her arms, her face tight and angry. "I'm a soldier of Mandalore," she growled. "I _don't take well_ to being used."

"She's _lying_ ," Vader snarled, his lightsaber suddenly in his hand and igniting with a hiss, the red glow of the blade casting the intimidating figure in sinister light, and the Mandalorian eyed the Sith Lord cautiously, but defiant. "You were with him the day the war ended, you were _complicit_ in the kidnaping and death of Padmé Amidala!" Green eyes slowly widened, and Vader realized he had stepped too far. With a snarl of rage, he shut his lightsaber off and returned to his place to block the door, arms crossed and fuming.

"It's true I tried to hang on to Kenobi," she said quietly, her voice distant and her eyes never leaving the black-clad man. "He helped create the Mandalorian Empire, the old one and the new one after the first fell. He's a powerful ally to have, and I thought memories of Satine would keep him bound to us." She shook her head. "But I was wrong. The opposite happened, and when he wanted to continue fighting after the Empire brought peace to the galaxy, he left us when we needed him most. As for Padmé," she said softly, "the woman was a close friend, an ally in my relief efforts, and on that night on Mustafar, I only know _one_ person that tried to hurt her, and it _wasn't Obi-Wan_."

"Surely some of your people followed him when he left," Tarkin said quickly before Vader could react, the powerful gloved hand wound so tight that Tarkin could hear the metal groaning. He shot the Sith a quick glare to convey to him exactly what he thought of that show of temper. "They called him Shadow King, he _led them_ , and as you said, he helped establish the boundaries of _your_ rule. There must be those that show loyalty to him."

"Do you see any Mandalorians following him in his attacks?" she asked, deadpan and irritated. "I understand that he works alone because he _is_ alone." She scoffed. "What allies does one have when they throw away everyone that stops being useful to them? Obi-Wan has _nobody_." She scoffed. "He isn't in Mandalore, he wasn't there to help in our fight against the Hutts when I _needed_ him, though I _did_ ask, and furthermore, he _isn't_ Mandalorian. My people will _never_ follow an outsider."

"Are you so certain?" Tarkin asked, and Bo-Katan looked at him like he was _small_.

"We keep to the Outer Rim. We try not to leave the boundaries of our empire, if we can avoid it, and _no_ , Obi-Wan isn't out there. It's my understanding that he hasn't left the Mid Rim and inwards since he realized that he was _losing_ in the Western Reaches and abandoned _them_ as well." She scoffed. "My people know him as a Jedi. He may as well be for how easily he cuts his ties and runs. If they see him, he will be treated like any other Jedi and he will be _executed_." Her jaw clenched tightly, and Tarkin could see the fires of rage burn deep in her eyes. "I'd kill him myself if he ever returned to Mandalore. It's _his fault_ that she's dead, and not _once_ since she was slaughtered did he return to pay his respects to her. Makes me wonder how much he actually cared for her. He _did_ replace her awfully quick. He probably just used her like he uses _everyone_."

Tarkin carefully searched her, read her every expression, from the barely controlled sneer to the twitch in her right eye. He glanced back at Vader, and even he seemed to calm in the presence of such anger. At the absolute least, the anger she felt was genuine. The sentiment may not have been, but that could be sorted out in time. Palpatine had been watching her _very_ closely, suspecting her involvement with him for a while, but nothing had turned up. She wasn't lying when she said she hadn't left Mandalore or her territory, and when she did, it was to meet with people high up in Imperial command to coordinate her efforts with their troop movements to cover the greatest area most effectively, and Tarkin _did_ have an appreciation for the efficient.

Furthermore, were anything to happen to her, the Empire would suddenly find themselves dealing with a Mandalorian problem. It was miraculous as it was that she had managed to keep the warring clans together, and were that to fail, _millions_ of Mandalorian warriors all trained by the formidable warriors of the Death Watch would rush to the service of Jabba the Hutt, who already employed a great many of them as bounty hunters, the delicate balance destroyed and tipping the scales to favor a crime lord that could do a _great_ deal of damage to the Empire, were he to move against it. The Empire had Jabba in their pocket, yes, but there was no telling how bold an army of Mandalorians would make the Hutt, and the prospect of crushing him beneath the Imperial heel was dismal enough. What's more, any outside force that tried to establish dominion over Mandalore would certainly find themselves fighting against a scattered army of some of the best warriors alive. They needed Bo-Katan.

"I apologize if the line of questioning felt like an interrogation," Tarkin said. "So long as Obi-Wan Kenobi remains at large, he is a threat to Imperial stability, even if his current actions have been simply... _taunting_. Mocking the Empire will not be tolerated."

Bo-Katan nodded. "I understand. The security of my territory is important to me as well." Her eyes narrowed. "Security that has been undermined by _your_ Empire in your agreements with the Hutts."

Tarkin leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers, looking at the angry young woman and thinking back on a day long ago when _another_ Kryze sat where she did now. A woman of ice that masked the passion within with a calm, level head and a frightening amount of political guile. Bo-Katan was not her sister _at all_. For as cunning as Satine had been, Bo-Katan was equally direct. She hid no emotion, made no attempt to manipulate or sway, as he sister was so skilled at. She simply _was_ , and backed it up with an attitude and an eagerness to let actions speak where words failed her. She was, in short, Tarkin's sort of woman, ruthless and aggressive, at the top because she had put herself there.

"Is that reason you called this meeting?" Tarkin asked softly, but the woman shook her head.

"No. I wanted to meet with the Emperor, but he's not seeing _anyone_ , from what I hear." A wry smirk graced her lips. "It seems like Obi-Wan's starting to make good old Palpatine jump at his own shadow."

Vader snarled and stepped away from the wall, his hand on his lightsaber once again. "The Emperor will not be mocked! Not by you, not by _anyone_!"

"Really. Seems like Kenobi's doing a fine job of that." She turned her attention back to Tarkin before Vader could formulate a response. "No, I'm here because you're Palpatine's right hand, and I want in."

Tarkin gawked when he understood. "You want _what_."

"I want in," she repeated, pushing her chair away from the table and leaning back in her seat, crossing one long leg over her knee and tapping her cheek with an elegant finger. She may not have had the political acumen or the grace of her sister, but in that moment, the woman looked every bit of the noble birth she was born in to. Tarkin swallowed hard. "You need help guarding the Outer Rim. I'm in a position to do that. _You_ can help secure my position as the undisputed Mand'alor by keeping Jabba out of my way. The arrangement works out for us both."

"You're talking about an Imperial Mandalore," Tarkin gasped. Even Vader was listening. Palpatine had wanted this for _years_ , but saw no way to integrate the Mandalorians without sparking another Mandalorian war. Even the _Hutts_ would ally with the ruthless children of Mandalore if it came to a forceful occupation of the territory. This would solve _all_ their problems.

"That is exactly what I'm talking about." Bo-Katan smiled, an ambitious, winning thing, and leaned in. "My people follow me because I'm a strong leader, but I'm a warlord, _not_ a politician, and my warriors are too few to control such a large space, especially with the Hutt's rise in influence."

"This is...a generous offer," Tarkin said, looking at her carefully, trying to discern any ill-intent, anything beyond just self-interest, but he could see nothing. Four years of staunch Imperial support was a record that very few in the upper levels of command could boast, and with such a rapid expansion of Imperial territory, they were struggling to maintain the army to support an Empire of that size. Most of their troops were conscripted into the service, and the quality of the Stormtroopers was, frankly, dismal. The clone troopers of the Clone War era were a far more effective force, but clone production had ceased, due to cost, growth time, or something else, Tarkin didn't know, but mass recruitment left them with an army that was vast, and made mostly of the galaxy's uninspired masses. But if they could suddenly have access to _millions_ of Mandalorians...

"I don't have the authority to give you what you ask for," the Governor said quietly. "But I will bring the matter to Emperor Palpatine's attention immediately."

"You will help us hunt for Kenobi," Vader commanded from his place at the door, and Bo-Katan flashed him a wry smile.

"I would be _happy_ to. It's not like we aren't already looking for him, Death Watch thinks his existence is offensive, but we can't very well send a host of Mandalore's finest into Imperial territory without sparking an incident." She drummed her fingers on her armored chest. "And aren't _you_ two the experts in hunting him? I never had to fight against him, I doubt there's anything about him I know that you don't."

"You have a close, _personal_ relationship with him!" Vader growled, and Bo-Katan just rolled her eyes.

" _No_ , that was my sister. She and I were estranged since the Mandalorian Civil War, and that only changed during the Clone Wars when she sent her attack dog to subdue the Death Watch." She was quiet for moment, her attention on Vader as he simply stood and stared at her, the sound of his breathing grating to her ears. "I never saw much of Kenobi. I could tell you what sort of women he likes, though. He likes frigid bitches with _far_ too much ambition."

" _Thank you_ , Bo-Katan," Tarkin said quickly as he stood. "I will discuss this matter with the Emperor. Know that the Empire values your continued support." They exchanged pleasantries, bowed, and Tarkin watched as Bo-Katan left his office with an Imperial Officer detail.

"You aren't on shore leave, Governor Tarkin," Vader said in irritation when the woman was out of sight, and Tarkin wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I _know_ that."

"Do you. Because from where I stand, a pretty girl just walked in here, batted her eyes, and got exactly what she wanted."

"Oh, _please_ , she got _nothing_ ," Tarkin scoffed, turning his nose up and tapping the comlink controls on his desk to put him through to the Emperor. "This isn't my decision, it's Emperor Palpatine's, and we cannot afford to be fighting against Mandalore right now."

"We can crush Mandalore," Vader snarled. "We should not be dealing or negotiating with _anybody_."

"Vader, Mandalore are our _allies_ ," Tarkin said, exasperated. "I expect you to express your concerns to the Emperor on this matter, but the decision is _his_." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple and closed his eyes. He was _tired_. "We can't hunt for Kenobi if the galaxy is against us. We need to employ all of our resources to catch that snake, you know _very_ well that neither of us can hunt him the way we used to."

Vader growled, but said nothing. Nobody really talked about what happened on Mustafar the night the Republic became the Empire. They had said Anakin Skywalker had died, killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Tarkin wasn't an idiot. Vader had to have come from somewhere, and while the imposing creature was taller than Anakin, the only thing that made sense was that Skywalker had returned from Mustafar a new man. If Vader had been at all offended that Tarkin had known the truth, he didn't say anything about it, though it was clear he disliked anyone else knowing the truth of it. That Bo-Katan seemed to have figured it out no doubt rankled the man.

Nobody came out of Mustafar whole, it seemed. Even Tarkin had wounds he couldn't recover from, but his weren't physical. He awoke often from nightmares in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and hopelessly afraid. He could still feel the hands of Kenobi inside his mind, as inexplicable as that was, could still hear his voice whispering to him when it was quiet enough, could still feel something within him bend to the Confederate leader. He hadn't said anything about this, because the solution was clear. Kill Kenobi, and he would no longer haunt him.

The holoprojector in the room flickered to life, revealing the hooded visage of Emperor Palpatine, the man scowling and angry as he looked at the two bowing men. "My Emperor," Tarkin began, "I have matters to discuss regarding Mandalore."

"It will have to wait," Palpatine snapped, far more irritated than Tarkin had ever heard him. "Lord Vader, you are to return to Coruscant immediately, pick up Maul, and fly for Dromund Kaas." The thin lips curled into a vicious sneer. " _Kenobi has been there._ "

* * *

Maul sat in the copilot's seat with his feet on the central command console before him, a datapad in his lap and the volume turned all the way up as he watched the latest holorecordings from Darth Lumis' considerably massive file. Sidious had transferred all the relevant information to the two apprentices' before they had left with the instructions to study the new information so they could make a decision about what to do when they arrived in the ancient Sith capital. Dromund Kaas was where they had drawn the majority of the Inquisitors from, a place of darkness where young acolytes trained in temples for their service to the Sith Lords. It was becoming increasingly likely that they were going to have to kill them all.

Vader growled deeply when the cockpit was filled with enthusiastic gasps and moans, loud and wanton begging from a female Inquisitor, a scout who was dispatched to look for new talent within the Temples. He had watched the file the first time, shocked and disgusted by the corruption of what was otherwise a fine agent, and that had been enough for him to wish death on Darth Lumis all over again. Maul had not been satisfied. This was his _seventh time_ watching the recording. Vader had long ago tried to get the insolent Zabrak's feet off the control console, but listening to this file over and over again was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"I miss sex," Maul sighed, leaning his cheek on his hand as he inspected the file and began it again. "I miss it _so much_."

"Watching it again _isn't_ going to make you miss it less," Vader snarled, pulling back hard on a lever and the ship lurched forward as it returned to sublight speeds, stormy Dromund Kaas hanging before them, Vader wasted no time in pressing the ship fast toward the planet. Maul didn't move. "...turn it off before I break it."

Squinting, Maul brought the datapad close to his face, looking intently at something for a moment before he slowly said, "You know what's weird about this? This recording is time-stamped from last year." Vader quickly punched a few buttons, pulled back a lever to activate the autopilot, and snatched the datapad from Maul's hands, pausing the recording and looking at the place that the Zabrak was pointing at. "That's around the time that acolyte was cut up, isn't it?"

Vader growled softly as he nodded. Inquisitors didn't just _die_. Four years of Imperial service, and only one had been killed, and that had been due to a run-in with Ahsoka Tano, who even by Jedi standards was a rare talent. But the Dark Acolytes, those who served and trained to become Inquisitors off on Dromund Kaas, were slain with some frequency by each other and by the rigors of their training. It was all a part of embracing the Dark Side, all part of climbing over the bodies of those vanquished to reach new heights. After all, only those that survived the rigors of such a hostile environment would be worthy of joining the Inquisitorius, so dead acolytes were taken note of, but never remembered, and this one wouldn't have been remembered either, save for the particularly brutal nature of the death.

This particular acolyte was one of the strongest, most promising they had, and he was found in several pieces scattered about the Temple. It bespoke of rare cruelty and exceptional anger, and when not a single one of the acolytes has stepped forward to claim credit, it appeared to be a sign of cunning, a wolf in sheep's clothing that understood the use for disguise. This creature could be more than an Inquisitor. This creature was acting _Sith_. Fighting in the Western Reaches had kept Vader from going to investigate personally, and the messes Lumis was causing so close to Coruscant forced Sidious to keep to his seat of command. He had sent a high ranking Inquisitor to investigate instead, and when the investigation turned up nothing, the matter was forgotten. After all, the death of an acolyte, no matter how powerful, meant nothing, and failure never deserved extended attention.

"Not a single one of them reported Lumis," Vader snarled as he tossed the datapad back to Maul and retook control of the ship. "I find it difficult to believe that to have happened without someone being complicit in his schemes."

"Master is a shadow in the Force, Vader, if he doesn't want to be seen, he won't be." Vader's head slowly turned to look at the oblivious Zabrak, When he felt the intensity of the gaze upon him, Maul quickly looked up into the expressionless mask, and he quickly bit his lip. "What! It's _true_. Master is also a mind-manipulator, he could easily make those fools forget him, or serve him, or anything!"

"You really have no idea what you're saying, do you?"

"No, I do!" Maul cried, indignant. "More than you! You just hunted him, _I_ served the Master!" Maul laughed, high-pitched and panicked, his hands shaking as he tightly clutched the edges of the datapad. "We all should serve him, we all _must_ serve him..." He thrust the datapad up against Vader's mask. " _Look how good his endurance is_!"

With a tired groan, Vader snatched the datapad from the Zabrak's grip and tossed it out of the cockpit. "I had wondered why our Master sent you with me," he growled. "It seems as though he is _testing you_. How is it I have become your _caretaker_."

"Well, you're not good for much else!" Maul began laughing until tight, invisible hands wrapped around his neck and squeezed. Vader ignored him. He was sure the Zabrak could survive until they landed. It wasn't _that_ far until they reached the Temple.

Vader understood the uses that Maul had to Darth Sidious. He'd have to be blind and a fool not to see it, though he felt his continued existence was a slight, an _insult_ to him personally. This wasn't as if some rogue Jedi had escaped judgement. Many had, and of those many, some were sure to embrace the Dark Side, certain to give into despair and rage at having everything they knew destroyed in a moment. No, this was a _Sith Lord_ they now fought against, an outcome that Sidious never foresaw, and this particular man had been trained by Sidious himself, and had achieved Mastery in his final betrayal. The Emperor needed all the allies he could muster, and Maul was a powerful one, one that had survived the impossible through the pure power of his rage, and for four years, Sidious had kept him close, never allowed the Zabrak out of his sight. Unlike Vader, Maul's loyalty was tenuous at best.

Physically, he had far surpassed anything he had been before. With the best cybernetics available, Maul suffered no discernable limitations from his injuries and was only made faster and stronger than before, nimble and athletic thanks to the light-weight material of the metal that composed his lower half. However, Maul's problem was never physical, it was mental, and still, he suffered. The damage Lumis had done to his mind had been extensive and, Vader thought, perhaps permanent. Maul's submission to Darth Lumis was unconscious and complete, deprived of all anger when it came to the Sith Lord who's life he destroyed. Perhaps that was why Sidious kept him. Maul was an important piece in Kenobi's life, the catalyst of everything that led him to Mastery of the Dark Side. It was with Maul that a young Jedi had first taken darkness in his hands and used it to channel hatred and wrath to defeat his enemy. It was because of Maul that Darth Lumis had lost the tether to what made him human, the lives of his lover and his child given up to push the Sith Lord to greater heights, his powers forged in the fires of consuming insanity, and when those flames burned out, a masterpiece was left behind.

It was difficult to understand the magnitude of that loss until Vader himself had suffered the same, but unlike Lumis, Vader couldn't put the blame entirely on another. It was Lumis, yes, but it was mostly Sidious, a thing that he _hated_ the Master for. And, of course, it was also _his_ fault. Poor, foolish Anakin Skywalker had driven Padmé away through his obsession with destroying Darth Lumis, the complete purge of him and his influence causing the Jedi to threaten the life of his own child in order to be rid of Kenobi. That's when he lost her. That's when he lost it all.

Vader set the ship down just outside the Temple and released his hold on Maul, the Zabrak pitching forward and gasping for breath, shaky and pale as oxygen filled his lungs. Vader said not a word as he rose from his seat and strode out of the cockpit, the metallic clang of the Zabrak's cybernetic legs following him soon after, and moments later, they walked together off the ship and into the pouring rain. The Sith apprentices' were greeted out front by twelve hooded beings, bowing deeply as their superiors approached. The High Priests of the Temple were in charge of overseeing the training of the acolytes, hand-picked by Sidious himself before the Clone Wars even began. Vader and Maul strode past them, and the men quickly followed them into the Temple, one man falling into step beside Vader.

"Welcome, my Lords," the High Priest said softly. "Our Master said to expect you."

"Did he say _why_ ," Vader asked, and the hooded man shook his head. Something felt... _off_.

"It isn't my place to question the Master of the Sith. He gives commands, and we obey. That is all."

"We have reason to suspect that the rogue Sith Lord Darth Lumis has been here," Vader said after a moment of silence, and the man beside him tensed, suddenly _very_ uncomfortable. Maul _also_ shivered, but he was ignoring Maul for now. There was no cure for foolishness.

"If he was here, I have no knowledge of it," the High Priest said quietly as they passed through the large, central chamber, filled with acolytes that were training with Force Pikes, striving to impress the overseers that stood around watching the displays. "But he was here once." Vader looked quickly down at the man and felt his rage grow, his pace slowing as they mounted the steps to take them to the alter. "A very long time ago."

"How long?" Vader asked, and the High Priest shook his head.

"Long ago. Not long after Darth Sidious first came to us. Fifteen years ago, I suppose." Vader growled in frustration, but said nothing else. That was before Obi-Wan Kenobi became Darth Lumis. It _could_ have been him, but if it was, it was before he had any training. "He came," the Priest continued, "in search of information on the Sith. He said he was not Sith himself, but he carried a Sith's red blade and had a Sith's yellow eyes." The man beside him fidgeted uncomfortably, clutching the hems of his sleeves and twirling them in anxious hands. "He killed our strongest warriors. He commanded the injured to stop screaming, and they obeyed. He entered my mind and tore through it looking for information, and I called him Master because he _was_ one."

" _Master_ ," Maul softly hissed, his hand tightening around Vader's wrist, and he understood the meaning, understood the fear in the air. This may not have been Darth Lumis, but it _was_ Obi-Wan Kenobi. This could have been the first time the young Jedi Knight had actively embraced the Dark Side, the moment that had marked the point of no return. He wondered if Sidious had known about this.

"An Inquisitor recently fell under Darth Lumis' sway," Vader said swiftly. "One year ago, we suspect. Around the time one of your acolytes was found... _scattered_ about your Temple." Vader pointed an accusing finger at the High Priest. "My Master does _not_ believe in coincidences. Do you currently have an Inquisitor present?"

"Y-yes, my Lord," the priest stuttered. "There's always an Inquisitor within the Temple to oversee the training of the acolytes and to search for the talent necessary to join the Inquisitorius." Vader swept his hand in the air.

"Bring him to me." Without a word, the priest turned to leave, Vader catching sight of the edge of a dark scar upon the man's arm before his sleeve fell to cover it. He grabbed Maul's wrist and pulled himself free of the desperate Zabrak's grasp and holding his hand up before him. The red hand was marked around the base of his thumb by deep, dark scars, the imprint of teeth from where someone had savagely bit him, scars that Maul often rubbed as if their mere presence was painful to him. He had never asked how the Zabrak came to have these, and he supposed it didn't actually matter _how_ , but now that Maul squirmed in his grasp under the close examination, he _did_ wonder.

"Master was here..." Maul hissed when the silence was too much. "Master _is_ here, this entire Temple reeks of his influence."

"Are you certain?" Vader asked quietly, and the Zabrak frantically nodded.

"Everything here feels like _me_. He's been here, he's broken them, they have _all_ felt his touch." Vader growled in irritation. He had no doubt that Maul was correct. What had been done to him on Mustafar had left scars deep within him, scars that could be recognized in others by one that bore the weight of them as well. Perhaps this was why Sidious had sent Maul with him, not as a test of Maul's loyalties, but as a swift and easy way to discover the truth of what had happened here. Vader could sense that these people weren't lying to him, but as he had learned in the Clone Wars, when Kenobi was involved, his victims didn't necessarily _know_ they were lying. Maul's assertion was cementing the feeling that Vader would have to kill them all.

"Our Master's task for us is becoming clear," Vader growled, releasing Maul's wrist. "Can I trust you to do what must be done?" Maul's eyes drifted to the High Priest as he began to mount the stairs, an Inquisitor beside him.

"Yes," the Zabrak whispered. "I've always been good for a slaughter..."

The Inquisitor knelt before the two Sith and quickly rose when commanded, removing his mask and looking at the pair with pale eyes. "My Lords, it's a great honor to have you among us," he said respectfully. "We were told to expect you." Rage gripped Vader, quickly and suddenly, and he wrapped his hand around the hapless Inquisitor's neck.

" _How_ ," he snarled viciously, his grip tightening as fear filled the Inquisitor's pale eyes. "Darth Sidious sent us here _directly_ after he received Kenobi's last message, how is it that _all of you_ were told to expect us?" Maul's eyes widened in understanding, and he slowly circled behind the priest, his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. Sidious was, if nothing else, secretive. It was unlike him to share information with _anybody_ , especially not if the people in question were suspected traitors. But they _did_ know, which meant they got there information from somewhere else.

"You said your Master told you to expect us," Maul said quietly, the suddenly terrified High Priest turning to meet his gaze. " _Which_ Master?"

"We got a message!" the priest cried, his voice tense and high-pitched as he turned and snatched a datapad from the Inquisitor's belt. "We were told to show it to you, _please_!" He held the datapad out before him in a shaking hand toward Vader, and he stared at the device, silence in the Temple save for the deep, mechanical breathing. Even the acolytes that had been training had stopped and stood still to listen to the commotion of what was happening up by the alter. With a grown, Vader dropped the Inquisitor and snatched the datapad out of the priest's hand, Maul coming to stand by his side as the Sith cautiously opened the lone file labeled _For Darth Vader_.

The recording was dark, at first, but lightened up eventually to show the acolytes of the Temple, every single one of them kneeling upon the ground, their eyes raised up worshipfully to look at the one that stood before the alter, the one that was recording the whole thing. The image shifted for a moment, shaking as the device was set down upon a raised surface, the alter, from the look of it, and a moment later the slain acolyte appeared, on his hands and knees and breathing deeply, blood dripping down from a gash in his forehead and obviously beaten. Vader and Maul both tensed when a hand reached into frame, grabbed hold of the man's hair, and wrenched his head back, the acolyte hissing in pain as he was pulled onto his back and straddled by a man in elegant black robes lined in red. Maul _whimpered_ when golden eyes looked right at the recording device.

"Hello, Vader," Lumis drawled, that insufferable smirk upon his lips. "At least, I _think_ , it's Vader. I doubt Sidious would come himself now that he has his seat of power." The grin upon his face widened. "Do be sure this is delivered to your Master, will you? Tell him _this_ is how it's done." Lumis turned from the device to look at the man beneath him, placed his hand upon his chest, and the acolyte began _screaming_ , a deafening, soul-rending wail that would have sent even the bravest of men running. At first, it was unclear, but Vader slowly begun to understand as the air around Lumis seemed to shimmer, as the acolyte's dark skin began to pale, the color drained out of him just as the life was. Vader had seen something like this before, though not done by Lumis, but by _Sidious_ , though on that night, the Sith Master became deformed, his skin sickly pale and disfigured. But _Lumis_ seemed to become... _younger_ , more vibrant, and Vader understood what was happening. The Force itself was being drained out of the man and consumed by the Sith Master above him.

When the acolyte stopped moving, when his screams stopped echoing in the halls, when his skin was pale and withered like old parchment, Lumis stood, raised his hand, and with the Force, threw the body to the acolytes that knelt below, the group erupting into a frenzy as weapons were drawn, and their dead comrade was savaged, cut into pieces by the very people he once trained beside. Throughout the Temple, a new sound erupted, a chant that echoed off the high ceilings and distant walls, a feverish cry on the lips of every being present as they shouted for their Master.

"Master..." Maul whispered, trembling beside Vader, his hand closing around the hilt of his lightsaber as both the High Priest and the Inquisitor both repeated the words that Maul had uttered. Vader held the datapad out toward the men, and the priest reached with a shaking hand to grab it, only to have the Sith's gloved hand grab his wrist in a crushing grip that fractured the bones underneath. With a cry of pain, the priest dropped to his knees, and Vader held up his bare arm, the edge of the scar he had seen before now fully exposed. Across the length of his arm, burned in an elegant scrawl, were the words "Property of Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Vader threw the priest to the ground, snarling in disgust as he drew and activated his crimson blade, Maul beside him laughing manically as his own double bladed saver hissed to life. "Your Master said to expect us," Vader said, his voice venomous and mocking. "But your Master did not prepare you to _deal_ with us. Maul," he barked, and the jumpy Zabrak looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. "Cover the Temple entrance. Make certain that none escape." With a feral, savage grin, the Zabrak took off, his lightsaber cutting down those unfortunate enough to get in his way as he dashed for the entrance, and chaos erupted within the hall as some ran and others turned to fight.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Vader's lightsaber sliced across the Inquisitor's neck, severing his head, and he stabbed the point of the blade down into the High Priest's prone body, silencing his screams. This wasn't the first Temple that he had been commanded to storm, but in this massacre, there would be no survivors.


	5. Lords of the Sith - 14 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys! Alright, for those of you that read Lord of the Sith, this'll feel familiar. For those of you that didn't...what are you doing reading this garbage? Go read Lords of the Sith! I'm feeling better! Mostly...thanks to those of you that wished better thoughts on me! Again, you're going to see chapters getting longer now that I'm having to cover the events of, like, ENTIRE BOOKS in a single chapter, so...patience between chapters is appreciated as I take a few days to get them done. Look for one-shots in the meanwhile. The next one, I think, is another Cody thing. You guys sure do love that clone.
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies! If I could express my love for you in any way other than writing, I would.

"Luminous beings, are we," Yoda said sagely, a soft smile on his lips as he looked at Luke and Leia, the twins staring at him in wonder, their five year old attentions firmly captivated by the strange little being before them. They sat upon the chest of another creature named Yoda, the mighty rancor laying on his back in the shallows of the swamp, his chest rising and falling with each slow, deep breath he took as he napped in the sun that filtered through the thick trees of Dagobah. On the shores nearby sat the children's father, the Sith Lord more angry now than Yoda had seen him in a _very_ long time.

For the past few years, it had been all fun and games for Kenobi as he roamed Imperial Space and caused a fair bit of irritation for the Empire, enough to keep their watchful eyes focused on him while Ahsoka Tano and Bail Organa quietly gathered support for a rebellion strong enough to fight back against Palpatine's tyranny. It was slow going, but they were patient, and they had time, and they all understood that one reckless move could endanger them all, expose the plans that they had worked so hard to keep secret. It required a fair bit of trust, but five years of closely working together had made Bail Organa and Obi-Wan Kenobi uneasy allies. They _did_ trust each other, even if they didn't like each other much.

Exposing the truth about what really happened to Padmé strained their relationship for a time, but eventually, Bail had come around to understand the Sith Lord's actions, could feel the guilt he carried about what it was he thought he had to do to protect Padmé's children. It may not have been the _right_ choice, but it was the only option Kenobi could see at the time. This wasn't actions done with malicious intent, like the actions on Christophsis that nearly ruined Organa's career in the Senate, yet another point of contention between them, but an act done out of desperation to save the children he had sworn to protect, and that was something that Bail could understand.

Revealing the truth about what happened to Padmé was not only unnecessary, but brave. He had gotten away with murder, after all, and had he not said anything, nobody would ever have known the truth, and that alone was worthy of respect. The truth was a hard thing, and revealing it hadn't been an easy thing for the Sith Lord, and while tempers ran high for a time after that, caused mostly by Bail's insistence that the murderer of the twins' mother should be kept as far away from them as possible, eventually the Prince and the Lord sat down and reached an understanding, and their working relationship was set back on track.

But _now_ , there were other rebel cells in the galaxy. Large ones that attracted the attention of both Bail's resistance and the Empire, and they were being... _uncooperative_. They would make valuable allies if they could be made to see sense, could be convinced to lay low and not jump at every taunt, every slight the Empire levied against them, but at the heart of the matter, Cham Syndulla and his Free Ryloth movement were well-armed idiots fighting a lost cause against an Empire that would not be dislodged from such a resource-rich world. There was a reason that the Twi'leks were _always_ enslaved, but no amount of explaining the futility of their cause could sway the insolent Syndulla to join forces with a cause that _did_ have a chance.

"Is the Dark Side stronger?" Luke asked softly, and Leia crossed her arms across her chest and nodded sagely, as if she had all the answers.

"Daddy says so, Luke, that's why the Jedi are gone now."

"No," Yoda said swiftly. "Stronger, it is not. Quicker, easier, more seductive, the Dark Side is." He shook his head. "But not stronger."

"Don't listen to him, kids," Obi-Wan said as he walked up and laid a hand on the rancor's flank. "Anyone who ever said the Dark Side is quick and easy has no experience with it." He pointed an accusing finger at Yoda. "He's a Jedi. What does he know of darkness."

"What know you of the light, Obi-Wan?" Yoda quietly challenged, and the Sith Lord scoffed.

"I lived twenty years in the light of the Jedi, and all they did was prime me for my fall to the Dark Side." Kenobi sighed and extended his hand, the two holocrons he carried floating up to the twins, and eyes bright, they eagerly grasped for them, Luke catching the blue cube, and Leia holding the red pyramid. "My powers came to me through sacrifice and pain, with suffering and death. I paid for my place in the Force with the deaths of my friends, my lover, my first son." Kenobi looked up at the Jedi Master with disdain. "Don't you _dare_ cheapen their deaths by saying my path was quick and easy." Yoda grumbled and bowed his head. No path through the Force, it seemed, was easy.

"How does it open?" Luke asked, prying at the edge of the blue and gold cube, and he shrieked in surprise when the rancor suddenly sneezed, the violent shifting of his chest causing both twins to be thrown off the beast and caught nearly immediately by their father in the gentle arms of the Force. With huge smiles on their faces, they were lowered to the ground, and they quickly rushed to take the Sith Lord's hands in their own, the holocrons clutched to their chests as they walked toward the ship where Cody was quietly working. The rancor groaned when he felt the children leave, and he rolled over, shaking himself off and tiredly crawled after his Master, the Jedi he was named after perched upon his head as he walked.

"You're a little young to open those, son," Kenobi said softly, plucking the cube out of the boy's hand when it was offered to him. "I can't open this one. This is a Jedi holocron, it requires a purity of the Force to open that I no longer possess."

"Can Uncle Yoda open it?" Leia asked, clutching the red holocron close to her and taking her father's hand again when it was offered to her.

"He can, yes."

"What about Qui-Gon?" Luke asked quickly. "Can _he_ open it?"

"Shall we find out?" the echoing, amused voice of the Force spirit asked as he materialized beside the twins, and with a cheer of excitement, the two kids let go their father's hand and rushed to the ghost. Kenobi rolled his eyes and walked past, increasing his pace to put some distance between himself and the Jedi, both living and dead. At least the kids were happy. The Force was a thing filled with wonders and mysteries, and they were finally old enough to begin exploring it, a tentative understanding taking hold as they experienced their own growing powers. He had promised that they would be allowed to choose their own path through the Force, not wishing them the chains of the Jedi or the pain of the Sith to shackle them. They were too young for the Dark Side, in any case. Learning from the decidedly gray Qui-Gon wasn't the worst thing he could imagine.

"News, sir," Cody said quietly as the Sith Lord approached, holding out a datapad to him which Kenobi quickly took. "It seems as though we have a new ally. _Moff_ Bo-Katan Kryze, Sector Governor of Mandalore. She got appointed last week."

"Trust Bo-Katan to get a job done, that woman's always been reliable." Kenobi smiled as he looked over Bo-Katan's message in the coded Mandalorian they had been using for all their communications. "Seems like she's dug her claws into good old Tarkin, I wonder how far she's willing to take that."

"As far as necessary, it would seem," the clone drawled. "Those Kryze sisters know the benefits of going to bed with powerful men."

"Fortunately Tarkin is a less dangerous bedmate than I am..." Kenobi sighed. "Though I suspect a much more boring one. Nobody would ever think of going after Tarkin through his lovers." He whistled, loud and shrill, and immediately, the rancor lopped toward his Master, dropping onto his belly before him and barking in short, loud bursts. The Jedi Master upon his head maintained his balance by hanging on to one of its massive horns. "Yoda!" Kenobi called up to the Jedi, one hand on his now purring rancor's nose. "Mandalore is now Imperial. It's going to be far easier for us to gather within the territory now."

"See the younglings, can we?" Yoda asked, leaping from the rancor's head and landing upon the ground next to Kenobi.

"It should be easier to, yes. Bo-Katan will feed us all the troop patrols and any Imperial intel that comes her way." He smiled softly as he looked over the message once again. They had all stayed far away from Mandalore the past few years on Bo-Katan's request so she could distance herself from Kenobi and make her Imperial sympathies well-known. Imperial Mandalore meant safety for Bo-Katan's Empire, and it opened up new possibilities for the growing rebel alliance. So long as they were careful and quiet, Bo-Katan could protect them within Mandalore Space.

"Training, they must have," Yoda said softly, and Kenobi nodded absently as he flipped through the information on the datapad.

"I agree. We'll get to them soon enough. Give me a chance to get in touch with Bo-Katan about assembling her Death Watch and their children and..." He trailed off. Muttering to himself as his eyes widened at the report he had just been sent, the blood in his veins turned to ice as rage gripped him. There, on the datapad, broadcast in real time was a report on the destruction of the Star Destroyer _Perilous_ above the planet Ryloth. There was only one thing that could have caused this, and before he knew what he was doing, he had his comlink in his hands and was quickly entering the personal number of Cham Syndulla. This _reeked_ of the Twi'lek and his futile resistance movement.

The Twi'lek responded immediately. "Talk to me, Belkor," he said swiftly, his voice tense and nervous, and whatever calm the Sith Lord had left him in an instant.

" _Belkor_!" Kenobi snapped, his hand so tight around the device it began to strain under the pressure. "As in, Belkor Dray, the Imperial Colonel that has been betraying the Empire for _years_ by aiding in your Free Ryloth movement?! _That Belkor_?!"

Syndulla hissed. " _Kenobi_. I don't have time for-"

"You damn well better have time for me, Syndulla, what are you doing!" Kenobi groaned in exasperation as he began to pace. "The _Perilous_ is _Vader's flagship_! Are you trying to make a point?! You _idiot_ , this fool show of force will bring the Empire down upon Ryloth harder than you have ever seen! Everything you have suffered up to this point is nothing next to what will be unleashed."

"I know what I'm doing, Kenobi!" Cham snapped back, more tense and irritated than Obi-Wan had ever heard the man. "Vader and the Emperor are on that ship, if we kill them, it's _over_!"

"Vader and the Emperor..." the Sith Lord whispered, then silently mouthed to himself over and over again. How had he not heard about this? He knew Syndulla had a small network of spies, and knew some of those spies to be in the inner circle of Senator Orn Free Taa of Ryloth, but if _Palpatine himself_ was getting off his royal ass to make his way to Ryloth, a planet known for the fierceness of its rebel faction...

It was a trap, one designed specifically to lure out the rebels and put them to a swift, decisive end. Nothing said Imperial strength, nothing ended rebellious sentiment faster than catastrophic failure. The moment was too soon, the movement too small to pose a serious threat, and Sidious was drawing them out, exhausting them before their moment, which would ultimately lead to...nothing at all. The Free Ryloth Movement was a candle that had hopes of sparking a rebellion, but now, with Sidious' lighting of it, it would light nothing at all.

"Cham, listen to me," Kenobi said, soft and measured and sincere. "This is a trap. You won't kill Palpatine, you won't kill Vader, you will gain _nothing_ but the loss of your cause and all your resources. He's there only to see your rebellion die in its infancy. Turn back now, Cham, save your people and your resources before its too late. Stop being a stubborn fool and join with my alliance like we discussed _last week_."

"The wheels are in motion, Kenobi, it can't be stopped now," Cham said swiftly. "I assure you, we _will_ kill Vader and the Emperor. It ends today."

" _You_ will end today!" Obi-Wan hissed. "Don't be an idiot, Ryloth has _everything_ going for it! You have a traitorous Colonel in your pocket. You have Moff Delian Mors, a _spice addict_ in the pocket of Jabba the Hutt, and, _by the way_ , Jabba's people are _my people_. You have an arsenal that would make most planetary militaries blush!"

" _Had_ ," Cham growled. "We've expended it taking down the Star Destroyer."

"Alright, fine, _had_!" Kenobi snapped. "Two high-ranking Imperial officers and a desire for rebellion is enough! Pull out now before it's all for nothing!"

There was silence on the other end for a long while, and if not for the quiet sounds of electronic beeps from Cham's command station, Kenobi would have thought the stubborn Twi'lek to have cut the channel. He could almost hear the revolutionary thinking, his mind churning with doubts and fears. "No," he finally said. "No. Isval will be contacting me soon. The hyperdrive on the _Perilous_ is about to explode, and if that doesn't get them, Isval will. I'm sorry, Kenobi."

"No, Cham, _wait_!" Kenobi shouted into the com. "Vader is perhaps _the greatest_ pilot in the galaxy, she can't win in a dogfight!" There was silence. "Cham?" Still, nothing, and the Sith Lord crushed the comlink in his hand. "I am _surrounded_ by idiots!" he shouted, throwing the broken device into the swamp, the force of his anger making the trees sway as the wind began to howl. The twins, worried for their father but also afraid of the raw wrath that surrounded them, rushed to Cody, the one thing besides their father they knew to always be safe.

"Sir," Cody said softly, holding the twins close to him, and furious golden eyes met his gaze, and instantly softened. "Is there a chance he can pull this off?"

"No," was the swift and confident reply, and with a sigh, Kenobi ran his hand through his hair. "They had _everything_ , if they were just patient like we discussed..."

"Have you ever known that Twi'lek to be patient?" Cody asked. "Or reasonable?"

"No, I suppose not..." He knelt on the ground, and the twins rushed into his outstretched arms, and he planted a kiss on each of their foreheads. "Daddy has to go save an idiot from himself."

"But you just got here!" Leia said, a frown on her face. "You said you'd stay! You said we'd all go somewhere!"

"And we will, my little princess," Kenobi said softly, a faint, sad smile on his lips. "I won't be long. You know how important my work against the Empire is, yes?" Leia _did_ know, and she bit her lip as she nodded. Prince Organa was also doing a lot of secret work.

"Are you going to fight the bad guys?" Luke asked, excitement in his eyes, and Obi-Wan smiled gently at the boy.

"Not this time, Luke."

"But they're going to be there!" he cried indignantly, and his father ruffled his hair.

"Yes, but sometimes, winning against the bad guys means living to fight another day."

"But you're the strongest _ever_!" Leia cried, pressing the Sith holocron against Kenobi's chest, and with a sigh, he took the pyramid in his hand. Could he? Was it possible to defeat Sidious? In a one on one fight, it was _possible_ , but he'd have Vader at his side on Ryloth. Still, the circumstances were ideal, he'd be taken off-guard in a land he was unfamiliar with and-

_No_. Sidious was there to end a rebellion, one that seemed very possibly linked to Kenobi himself. The Sith Master had to at least suspect that Lumis was involved, and had to have something planned in the event that his wayward apprentice showed up. After all, he was only there on Ryloth because he _knew_ he would be safe. Again, this was a trap, and Sidious was remarkably good at laying them.

"Little girl, I'm not going to fight him until I _know_ I will be able to come home to you," he softly cooed, holding the twins close. "You two have always been my top priority. I won't leave you fatherless because there's a chance to end things. The Emperor's day is coming, but not yet." He stood when he felt Yoda and Qui-Gon slowly approach. "I need to see what I can salvage from this mess. Can you watch the kids for a few more days?"

Yoda smiled and hobbled to the twins and took their hands in each of his. "Come, children," he quietly rasped. "Move rocks with the Force, we must."

"Gar cuyir ner runi, ner ade," Obi-Wan called to the twins, and they turned, smiles on their faces, and waved.

"Kar'taylir darasuum gar, buir," they chirped in unison, and before he could change his mind and allow the fools to reap the consequences of their terminally idiotic actions, Obi-Wan turned and disappeared into the _Umbra_ , Cody following close behind, and minutes later, they were off for Ryloth.

* * *

"This is _stupid_!" Maul shouted into the thick woods that surrounded them, the Zabrak pulling at his cranial horns in his frustration. Nobody present was entirely sure _who_ he was shouting at, but nobody wanted to question him about it either. At least he had put away his lightsaber. The fallen trees acted as a trail to lead any pursuers straight to them, as the Emperor had pointed out earlier. Though, from the way Vader saw it, Maul was right about one thing. This _was_ stupid.

"Quiet down, Maul," the Emperor said softly, sitting quietly flanked by the Royal Guard at the fire they had made. "If those responsible for the attacks are out looking for us, your yelling may bring them down upon us." Maul snarled in aggravation and bit down on the leather bracer the bound his arm.

"I don't understand how this could have happened, my Lord," Vader said softly, kneeling beside the Emperor, keeping his eyes on Maul, who now resorted to kicking at trees, the hear metal of his cybernetic legs taking to the wood like a sledgehammer and splintering the wood. "These are primitives, using Clone Wars era weaponry. They shouldn't have the power to take down a Star Destroyer."

"And yet, here we are," Palpatine said, gesturing to the forest that lay all around them. "Sometimes, my old friend, there are forces at work that even we are unaware of." Vader was quiet for a moment as he took in the Sith Lord's meaning. There were very few forces that Sidious was unaware of so...what? Did this have to do with Lumis? Or had all of this been planned by Sidious himself?

"Do you suspect Obi-Wan is involved in this plot?" The guards curiously looked to Vader when the Emperor softly scoffed.

"No. This is far too brash, far too... _brutish_ to be his work, and were he involved, we would not be here." At the very least, Sidious knew what was afoot.

"Is this a test, Master?" he asked softly, and a slight smile came to the Emperor's face.

"Is not all in life a test, my friend?" If only one thing was clear, it was that Vader would get no answers out of Darth Sidious. Standing from his place, he walked to the perimeter of the small clearing they sat in to stand beside Maul, the furious Zabrak furiously rubbing at the bite mark at the base of his thumb, his teeth gnashing together as he looked out into the forest.

"Something's out there..." Maul muttered, his eyes darting back and forth as though he were seeing something that Vader could not, which was _impossible_. The mask he wore allowed him to see far better than most creatures, and certainly far better in the dark than Zabrak eyes could. "Something...something..."

"Our Master seems to have this under control," he said softly, and the Zabrak cringed. "Though, perhaps _your_ Master has different ideas about that."

Maul involuntarily shivered as he glared at Vader. "You're a funny man, _Skywalker_." The Zabrak grinned when Vader's hand tightened, and he could feel the fury of the Force close around him, but not touch him. Vader was being restrained by Sidious, it seemed, and perhaps he understood that the situation was dangerous enough without killing allies, no matter how irritating they may be.

"Anakin Skywalker is dead," Vader growled, but the Zabrak just scoffed, rubbing the scars on his hand.

"Keep telling yourself that and you might believe it." He looked at his towering companion and grinned wickedly. "Or is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? Is it easier to deny the things you've done?"

"You must _really_ miss your Master," Vader snarled. "I bet it was nice not having to think at all when you were in the mouth of his _beast rancor_." Maul whimpered softly, his hands clenching and unclenching as he began to shake. "Tell me, how was it delivering your own mother's _head_ to Darth Sidious?"

"Lord Vader," Palpatine said quietly from his place by the fire. "Do keep in mind that we are trying to survive. It will not do to lose one of our own before the trouble starts."

"Apologies, Master," Vader said, bowing to the Emperor while keeping his eyes on the shivering Maul.

"You shall not hate, you shall not feel anger or rage..." Maul muttered under his breath. "Rage is the domain of the Sith, and you are _nothing_..."

Vader wondered how much he had set back Maul's recovery, but if the Zabrak was so fragile, perhaps he didn't deserve to recover. A tool was only useful so long as it could be used. Perhaps Lumis had expended this one's use to sooth his own need for revenge against the man that destroyed mighty Mandalore. Still, Sidious felt he had some use still, so perhaps it wasn't a lost cause. Perhaps Maul was _always_ meant to be a mess, slaved to the memory of Darth Lumis.

"What's _that_?" Vader asked, roughly jabbing his finger on the Zabrak's hand, and he swiftly pulled away, the sudden shock seeming to pull the man out of his haze. Perhaps he _wasn't_ hopeless after all.

"That Mandalorian she bitch _bit me_ ," Maul snarled. "Before I killed her..." He absently rubbed at the deep markings as he looked out into the forest, his gaze seeming distant and unfocused. "Master seemed to like it," he said mindlessly. "Rage and joy and hatred and pride and grief and love, all mixed together in touches that _burned_. But I wanted them anyway, even if they hurt, it kept the cold away..." Maul closed his eyes and shivered. "It's always cold now." He pointed out into the woods. "Something's there..."

This time, Vader felt it too, and both apprentices' drew and ignited their lightsabers just as a large, screeching insectoid creature jumped out of the woods, the lightsabers slicing across opposite sides of the creature and bisecting it. The Royal Guard quickly stood, defending the Emperor as they pointed their rifles out toward the woods, watching closely at Maul's restless pacing, the savage man in tune with what was going on around them. Sensing no immediate danger, Vader knelt and examined the creature, running his hand over the sticky innards.

"What creatures are native to Ryloth?" he asked quietly as the Emperor slowly rose.

"None I should like to learn more about," he said, moving to stand beside his apprentice. "Come. We have been still long enough. Surely the local government is launching a rescue. We should find a place we can signal them from." He laid a hand upon one of the Guard's shoulders. "Check and see if the communications in our shuttle are operable before we leave." With a swift nod, the guard ran off to do as commanded, though Vader knew that as before, the communications would return only static. The problem wasn't the ship, as he had discerned before, it was the planet's communications array, knocked out of commission by falling debris from the destroyed Star Destroyer, a wayward escape pod, or by efforts of this rebel cell to cause even more chaos or confusion. Regardless, Sidious seemed undisturbed, as if everything was going according to plan.

Vader felt the Emperor's gentle hand on his arm, and he obediently leaned down. "I will be of little use to you here, I'm afraid," he whispered, indicating back toward the red-clad Imperial Guards. "It will be up to you and Maul to see this through."

"I doubt Maul's use to us, my Master," Vader growled, but a knowing smirk crossed the Master's lips.

"Perhaps, Lord Vader, you will discover his use during this trial."

"Master!" Maul shouted, rushing from his position at the edge of the woods and stopping before the hooded man. "More are coming. We need to move."

"As he said," Palpatine said softly, moving slowly after the Zabrak, Vader and the Guards quickly falling in behind. It was a long way through the forest, made longer by the predators that ran through it and the rebels that were hunting them. It was best not to linger.

* * *

If one thing could be said about Imperial troops, it was they were extremely orderly and organized, a fine model of efficiency. Obi-Wan was discovering that in a crisis situation, that fell apart extremely quickly. When he arrived at the Imperial Command on Ryloth, the entire station was in chaos, protocol and rules and regulation quickly forgotten in the panic caused by a destroyed Star Destroyer, the Emperor and Vader lost on the surface of a planet filled with the worst predators imaginable, the Planetary Communications Hub rendered inoperable, making anything but line of sight contact impossible, and a devastating lack of command to follow. With Moff Mors supposedly shot down on her way from her luxurious home on the lush moon of Ryloth to the planet to give what aid she could, command turned to Colonel Belkor Dray, who was _also_ unaccounted for, opting to leave the command station to personally lead the search for the Emperor. And with nobody in command, it gave Kenobi an easy way in.

All things considered, the day may not end up quite so awful.

Obi-Wan and Cody quickly saluted the first officer they saw, frantic young man that seemed fresh out of the academy, and Kenobi thought the frightened young thing would die of shock. Mandalorians weren't _that_ uncommon, were they?

"I'm Tarre Vizsla, House Vizsla of the Death Watch," Kenobi said, his voice strong and commanding. "This is my brother, Pre Vizsla. We were in the area, Moff Bo-Katan of Mandalore sent us to give what aid we can. What's the situation?"

"U-uh..." The officer stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words, and with a growl of irritation, Kenobi pushed past the officer.

"Never mind, we'll figure it out. Where's the central command station?" When the boy didn't answer, he leaned in and quickly snapped, "Take us there, boy!" and the officer jumped, muttered a quick apology, and rushed the Mandalorians through to the command station.

Obi-Wan couldn't have hoped for a bigger mess.

He focused immediately on an officer standing in the middle of the room on an elevated platform as he tried frantically to monitor several different displays and arrays around him. The room, like the rest of the base, was a chaotic mess, filled with stormtroopers rushing around with little direction and officers trying in vain to shout commands into their comlinks. With a quick nudge to Cody, the clone drew his blaster and fired five consecutive shots into the air, causing the officers to drop what they were doing and stare wide eyed at the Mandalorians, the stormtroopers fumbling for their weapons and pointing them at the man holding that weapon.

"Now that I have your attention," Kenobi said, commanding and with the authority given to him with a gentle nudge of the Force, "we are in charge now. I need a situation briefing _immediately_." The officers jumped to do his bidding, vacating the command post and letting him take place at the helm of a ship they already saw as sinking. It only took a quick glance at the information to have a clear idea of what to do.

"Pre," he said, nudging Cody. "I need you to head to the communications hub. Round up a company of officers and technicians here that are known to the higher up stationed at the hub and get communications back online. This is the highest priority." He looked around the room quickly to take stock of his assets. "Take a compliment of stormtroopers with you. I think it's safe to assume the hub was attacked by our insurgency group, and they're going to be on guard. Let's see if we can't put them at ease."

Cody quickly saluted. "I'll contact you as soon as we get communications back up." Without another word, the clone left to do as he was bid, grabbing officers that looked older and more seasoned than the children that were running around.

The younger officer that had led them through the base and the officer that he had replaced at the command station stood close to Kenobi's side, their presence feared and panicked, their beings jumpy and nervous, like every action was being watched, like every movement was being judged. Obi-Wan was glad he opted out of wearing the armor that branded him as the Shadow King. The frightened men might actually have died from fright. With full access to the Imperial systems, Kenobi brought up the files on the two chief officers in question, Colonel Dray and Moff Mors. Both these tools were now useless to him, thanks to the idiocy of Cham Syndulla. There wasn't even any chance that the assassination attempt would work. If Sidious was so secure that he would come personally to a planet to root out the aggressive rebels that resisted the Empire, then he had planned for every outcome, taken _everything_ under consideration. This wasn't just an old man, the way the holovids liked to portray Palpatine, this was a _Sith Master_. It would take more than a few upstart rebels and an exploding Star Destroyer to kill him.

For a moment, the notion of leaving the command station for the wilderness of Ryloth to hunt for his old Master entered his mind, a soft, dark whisper that flooded his being with a flurry of pleasure and intense satisfaction, the impatience of the Dark Side taking hold of him in a sudden yearning for power and death. Sanity reasserted itself quickly. Sidious was not nearly so vulnerable as the situation made him out to be, and Obi-Wan had to remind himself that this was a trap, not just for the Free Ryloth movement, but for him as well. The calm patience of the leviathan that rested deep within him commanded that he stay his hand, and as always, Obi-Wan would obey the will of the Force. It stood against Sidious, and in time, when the moment was right, he'd be commanded to strike. Until then, he would wait.

"This was supposed to be a visit from Senator Orn Free Taa," Kenobi finally said to the officers beside him, the two men jumping in surprise from the suddenness of the man's words to them. Kenobi grinned. Even with someone in charge, there nerves were still raw. It would make getting what he wanted easier. "We end up with a Star Destroyer reduced to scrap, and Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader lost on the planet. _How_."

"I-I don't know, sir," the junior officer said swiftly, his voice shaking, and his fellow nodded swiftly in agreement. Neither of these men were old enough to serve in the Clone Wars.

" _Think_ ," Kenobi hissed. "What is it they teach you in those Imperial Academies, hmm?" Neither man answered with anything more than shaking in their boots. Obi-Wan scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "There is no accounting for fools, I suppose. Death Watch has it right, there is no training that surpasses blooding boys early to make them men. A little murder will steel your nerves, good thing Mandalore is Imperial now, _somebody_ needs to show the Empire how its done." He sighed and looked at the files displayed before them. "Tell me about Moff Mors and Colonel Dray."

The officers straightened up. _That_ they knew about. "I went to the Academy with Belkor Dray," the younger officer said. "He was recruited out of our graduating class by Moff Mors a few years back to serve as her right hand here on Ryloth."

"The Moff largely runs things from one of Ryloth's moons," the senior officer said. "We...don't see much of her, actually. I haven't seen her since I've been posted here." Obi-Wan knew why, of course. The woman was a hopeless spice addict, and being such, was a fine tool for the Hutts, a willing advocate of looking the other way when the smuggling of ryll was involved. Jabba wasn't going to be happy about this. Perhaps there was a way to salvage this, but it was unlikely. Mors' negligence had allowed this to happen, and it wouldn't be overlooked.

"Boys, this couldn't have happened without the aid of an Imperial traitor," Kenobi said casually, the disaffected tone of his voice preventing the panicked officers from understanding his implications right away. "The Free Ryloth movement must have spies close to the Senator that relayed the true nature of this trip to their leaders, but the fact of the matter is that this effort would be met with absolute failure if they did not have help from the Imperial command stationed here on Ryloth." He pointed to the two images displayed before him. "You're looking at your two most likely suspects."

For a long moment, the officers were silent, staring dumbly at the holodisplay as the words sunk in. It was the elder man that spoke first. "You think the Moff could be a _traitor_?!" he gasped, a nervous, high-pitched laugh the only response from the younger man as he shook his head in disbelief.

"No, I actually find that unlikely..." Kenobi drawled, a swipe of his hand minimizing the images of the Imperials in question as he brought up the information on the Free Ryloth movement. "This resistance organization has been present since the beginning of Imperial occupation, but we can trace its origins back to the Clone Wars. It's likely they share the same leadership. But your rebels didn't become a real problem for us until three years ago." He maximized the image of the young Colonel. "When Belkor Dray was given command of Imperial activities here on Ryloth."

"No," the junior officer said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That can't be possible. Colonel Dray was with us here working every single day! He's _tireless_! Moff Mors doesn't do a thing! She sits on her moon and governs us remotely, _surely_ she has more time and the privacy necessary to aid the rebels!"

"True," Kenobi said, nodding, "she is an absent and negligent commander, but that doesn't lend itself to treason, it lends itself to _ignorance_." He tapped the image of the Colonel. "No, your friend Belkor is the far more likely suspect. He's intimately familiar with the Free Ryloth movement, and while I sincerely doubt he's been helping them for _their_ sake, he's certainly been doing it for his own advancement. As you so keenly pointed out, the blame is easily levied at the Moff, and with her out of the picture, it seems that Belkor Dray is the next in line for the position." The officers were silent, and a swift brush of their minds found them shocked, but accepting.

Kenobi quickly cleared the information away from the holodisplay. "This had just become a rescue for both the Emperor and for Moff Mors. I will deploy our entire strength in the search for them as soon as we have communications back online, which I suspect will be very soon. My brother is _very_ good." He waved the officers off. "In the meantime, you will search Dray's office and bring me _everything_ that seems suspect, am I understood?" The officers nodded swiftly, turned to leave, swiftly turned around again to salute, and rushed off to do as they were told, leaving Kenobi alone with access to the Imperial network.

He wouldn't have access to _everything_ , as the terminal he had access from belonged to Colonel Dray, but it was enough. Shipping manifests and schedules regarding the transport of ryll would be of great interest to both Jabba and Hondo, and those were two networks that Kenobi didn't want to see go to waste. But more importantly was the _other_ information on the system, information compiled and uploaded to the system to keep the Empire unified in its attempts to control the wild and expansive Outer Rim. Mentions of Sienar Fleet Systems establishing major factories on the planet Lothal was of particular interest, not because of the planet itself, but because of _what_ they were building, and for _whom_ they were building it. A ship based on experimental technology first used during the Clone Wars in the Battle of Christophsis, technology that his own _Umbra_ was equipt with. The Empire was building a _stealth ship_ , a state of the art corvette called the _Carrion Spike_ for none other than Moff Wilhuff Tarkin.

Kenobi scoffed as he quickly downloaded the information to his datapad. Clearly, good old Tarkin couldn't be allowed to have such a toy. It had been a while since he'd stolen a ship.

Also of interest were mentions of an ambiguous shipments of _something_ being made to Geonosis, which bore investigation at some point, and a quick look at Ryloth's database showed the planet to be infested by highly predatory insects, most notably the Gutkurr, and the far more dangerous Lyleks, creatures that traveled in massive, carnivorous hoards that were by far the most dangerous thing about the planet. Lylek nests were sprawling expanses of tunnels burrowed into the earth that could go on for miles and miles of sprawling, labyrinthine tunnels, and fear of the creatures had shaped Twi'lek culture, from their own homes to their hunting patterns to their defensive systems.

Vader and the Emperor were out in the wilderness with these creatures. And still, it wouldn't be enough.

* * *

It was a poor decision, Vader knew, but it was the only one, and still, the Emperor didn't appear to be worried. They were being hunted, just as before, but now, the rebels that pursued them were secondary to the enormous, swarming insect horde, a hunting, chittering wave that once caught on to a scent, never let go. The rebels had seen them, swooped down low in two gun ships that Maul and Vader had taken down together, a stunning show of lightsaber skill and Force ability that saw the ships' plasma bolts batted back at them, striking the fuel tanks and sending the ships crashing to the ground in a ball of fire, a signal to people searching for miles around to follow to their location.

Vader didn't trust those searching hardest to be Imperials. Neither did the Emperor, and with gentle urging from the old man, his Royal Guard helping him along, the five men made their way through the forest led by, of all people, _Maul_. Despite his enhanced vision, his aided hearing, his greater talent in the Force, Vader was proving to be inferior to Maul in the field of survival, a thing that Sidious had trained him for since childhood. With his vast array of mental complications, it was difficult to remember that Darth Maul was, at the very heart of him, a child of the Dark Side, the last surviving son of Dathomir, a man trained for over twenty years by Darth Sidious himself, and a man that had survived on his own for over ten with only his anger and hate to spur him onwards.

It was... _impressive_.

Maul's nearly feral path through the woods saw him rushing far ahead of the much slower group, only to return shortly after having scouted miles ahead for the clearest path, with any threats easily dispatched along the way. It was only when he had run into the first of what would come to be _hundreds_ of the large, savage insectoids that he had stopped to take stock of his surroundings, had to change his tactic, adjust to accommodate what he perceived to be a new threat. Something about the way the earth smelt, the way the air tasted, the sound of the chittering and clicking and buzzing in the air bothered the jumpy Zabrak, something that Vader's senses couldn't filter out that were all too clear to the ears of a man that had both been hunter, and hunted.

Perhaps Maul would never again reach the peak he had achieved in his youth when he was whole, before madness brought by pain and hate had torn through him, before Darth Lumis had touched his mind and became master of it, before gentle Satine's teeth had sunk into red skin, but perhaps he didn't need to be. Out here, when it mattered most, Maul was a beast of instinct, raw and primal and dangerous, and perhaps that was enough. In this, Vader had seen what it was that Darth Sidious had seen so long ago. He was an animal, yes, but when backed into a corner, when forced to survive, he did, be it through the death of those that challenged him, through the wisdom to know when to hide, or by submission to a stronger beast when the other two failed.

And now, Maul appeared to want to run, the death of one huge, predatory insect merely speeding along the hoard that followed. Even Vader could feel the ground as it shook, sharp, pointed claws piercing the ground in a wicked stampede as the promise of prey attracted _hundreds_ of the vicious things, a hoard unlike anything Vader had ever seen, and certainly nothing he had ever experienced with a predator of this nature. And so they ran, periodically stopping to kill those that advanced ahead of the bulk of the hoard in hopes that the bodies would slow down the rest. They did not. And in accordance with Palpatine's wishes, they had followed Maul's lead into a tunnel, large and wide that bore into the rock face of a cliff, and drifted beneath the ground, and it was here that the savage Zabrak made his stand.

With their Master secured safely behind them, Vader and Maul stood side by side, lightsabers blazing in tight fists, and wielded them expertly against the wave of the hoard as it crashed upon them, killing all in their path with blade and with the Force, bending and snapping limbs, crunching thick, spined carapaces beneath the weight of pure rage, slicing heads and sickle-shaped claws and bodies open and showering the cave with thick, pungent slime that only seemed to further enrage Vader's more visceral companion. In time, hundreds lay dead, the bodies piled so high within the tunnels that there was no room for the rest of the hoard to pass, and met with an obstacle between them and their prey, like water, moved to find another way to them. For now, at least, the hoard was gone, but Vader could feel the danger was not yet past.

"Master," Vader said softly as he stood beside Sidious, watching carefully as the Royal Guard set charges to collapse the tunnel behind them as an added precaution, watching furious, feral Maul pace back and forth, snarling and nearly foaming at the mouth as dangerous, glowing eyes darted down branching pathways of the tunnel network. "Master, I question the purpose in following Maul."

"Are we following him?" Sidious asked, amused. "Or have the insects herded us, as unintentional as it may be?"

Vader growled deeply. This was no time for riddles. "We are _trapped_ , Master," he said, the strain in his voice of his tried patience clear. "We are being guided who knows where by a madman. We should turn back before we are in too deep."

"And risk the rebels finding us?" Sidious said softly. "I think not. If Lumis is with them, I stand to lose both my apprentices."

"But not yourself."

The Emperor chuckled softly, which rankled Vader's nerves. "As I said, Lord Vader. I am in no danger here. But you and Maul..." He laughed, soft and sinister and laced with anger and malice, and Vader felt a chill run through him, be it from residual concern, or the snap freeze of the Dark Side, he didn't know. "You and Maul must be tested."

"Tested..." he repeated softly, and the smirk on Sidious' face fell away into a vicious sneer.

"In one moment," the Emperor said softly, "I had at my disposal hundreds of Force sensitive beings, trained for a decade to serve me, and in one afternoon, the strength that would turn all future light to darkness was extinguished. By _you_ ," he said, pointing a finger against the control panel on Vader's suit. If he were capable of _not_ breathing, Vader would have held his breath, but even now, the thick, metallic respiration rang out within the tunnel. "Now, the Inquisitorius is weakened, down to a mere _twenty_ , forced to prioritize the search for young Force sensitives over the continued execution of escaped Jedi. It will take _decades_ to recover from this."

"Master, we had no choice," Vader growled, his anger rising as his fist tightly clenched. "Lumis had _infected_ them all."

" _Lumis_ ," Sidious hissed, "would have been able to work this disadvantage to his favor. Lumis would have taken broken tools and made them into something _new_."

_Again_ with this. "I... _apologize_ , Master," Vader snarled. "You have not seen it fit to teach me these... _tricks_."

"You have not the talent," he said dismissively, and for just a moment, Vader felt murderous intent burn within him. Before him, he saw an old man, wizened and frail, a man who had done nothing this whole ordeal but sit back and let his strong, young apprentices do the difficult work. He had sat on the bridge of the _Perilous_ , waiting for far too long before deciding it was time to evacuate. He had sat strapped into a passenger seat of the transport they escaped in while Maul fretted and Vader flew them out of the way of an exploding Star Destroyer, and then crash landed on the planet below _so well_ that they had managed to survive what should have otherwise been fatal. He had ambled along while Maul tracked and hunted and guided them through dangerous woods and lifted not a finger when death by insect stared them in the face. Even Sith Lords, _especially_ Sith Lords, met _pitiful ends_.

And then the intensity of the feeling stopped. It was still there, to be sure, he _did_ want to kill Darth Sidious, but the immediacy was pushed away when it occurred to Vader that his Master hadn't lifted a finger because he hadn't _needed_ to, because, as he had said, he was never in any danger. Were he to feel threatened, certainly Sidious would do everything in his power to save himself, as all Sith did, but flanked by two young Sith Lords, and with the full command of the Dark Side behind him, Darth Sidious truly had nothing to fear. This all was, of course, according to plan.

"Do you want to kill me?" Sidious asked softly, and Vader looked at him for a long moment, thinking how best to respond.

"The thought did occur to me," he said, "but only for a moment." Sidious nodded, and slowly began walking down the long tunnel after Maul, the Zabrak running back and forth to make certain that he was being followed.

"We are less now," Sidious finally said. "Fewer, now that Lumis has forced our hand. That only means one thing. We must all grow stronger than before, a powerful force to replace a large one, and _you_ , my apprentice, must show to me that you are capable of overcoming insurmountable odds, because that will be required of you if the Sith are to continue onwards."

They nearly ran into Maul when the Zabrak suddenly stopped, his muscles tense and shaking as he stood at the mouth of the tunnel, a soft green glow lighting the enormous cavern that tunnel, and hundreds like it opened into. The glow came from the walls, the ceiling high above, patches on the floor from clutches of amorphous sacks of eggs. The insects' hive, Vader realized only moments before hundreds of the creatures began pouring in from the other tunnels, chittering and screeching and frenzied in a instinctual rage to protect their home. From the back of the cavern arose a creature, towering above the others, its powerful jaw opening and closing as it barked and roared, the tentacles of its maw squirming as it grasped the air, tasting for the foreign creatures that had entered as large, dangerous claws scraped long gouges into the rock of the cavern walls. The queen, immense and dangerous, had arrived, and with her, she had brought the entire hive to defend her.

Feral, snarling Maul activated his lightsaber, eyes wide and limbs trembling in anticipation. "Lord Vader," Sidious said, soft and sinister. "What will you do?" he asked, the Royal Guards flanking the Emperor, tense and nervous. Without hesitation, Vader drew his lightsaber and ignited it.

"We're going to kill them all."

* * *

Cham Syndulla wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it himself. Vader and the Emperor entered the tunnels into a Lylek hive, and they emerged _alive_ , one Royal Guard less, but that was all. His trackers wouldn't enter the tunnels. No sane man would, but as so many had said, Vader was no man. They had followed the Emperor's tracks from the wreckage of two of their ships, another mystery that Cham was waiting for a less frantic time to solve. How men _on the ground_ could destroy two attacking gunships was beyond him, but it had been done. They had followed the trail for a time through the woods, and chasing after them became far more dangerous when their path intersected the trampled ground of a Lylek hoard. The trackers had half a mind to call off the search then. _Nobody_ survived or escaped a hoard of Ryloth's apex predators. _Nobody_.

But Cham had insisted. He had thrown _everything_ into this one attempt, every man he had, every weapon, every resource he had collected over the past five years into this assassination attempt, and he would not be satisfied until he had seen the bodies to ensure his victory. They followed the trail right to the mouth of one of the Lylek tunnels that ran deep underground, and that's where they found the bodies. Lyleks. _Hundreds of them_. It seemed impossible. Vader and the Emperor had gone _into the tunnels_ , and had killed so many of the hoard that chased them, but Cham knew what waited for them beneath the ground. All Twi'leks did. Only death was down there.

Still he was not satisfied, and when they had heard an explosion, seen the dust rising from the collapse of stone and dirt, Syndulla packed up his trackers and rushed for the source just as rain began to fall, making tracking more difficult as visibility was lowered. That's when they found the tunnel, yet another entrance to the Lylek's sprawling underground network closed up by a tunnel collapse, and leading away were four sets of footsteps, one less from the five they had been tracking, joined a short while later by another set, this one smaller, lighter than the others.

Vader was alive. The Emperor was alive, as were two of the others they traveled with, and Cham and his relentless men had tracked the steps to a quarry deep in the woods where they now stood, looking down into a small Twi'lek village, and in the middle of the happy, celebrating forest dwellers sat _Vader_ , and the Emperor beside him. It was _infuriating_. His own people, harboring their enemies, and they didn't even know it. There were hundreds of villages like this one scattered across Ryloth, Twi'leks who shunned technology as the thing that had enslaved them and chose to live simple lives close to nature, as their ancestors had. One move against them, and Cham knew Vader would kill them all, but time was scarce, and the longer they waited, the closer they drew to the moment that the communications hub would come back online, and once it did, it was over. The Empire would be on them, they would find them, and the Emperor would get away.

But his _people_!

He was fighting for them. He would not allow them to be a sacrifice in this fight. Not so long as he was fighting it. Everything he did, he did for Ryloth. If he could give them warning, if they could just have a chance to get away, if they could be sure Vader would hold his ground instead of running...

Cham hissed as his com rang, and he answered it with an irritated, " _What_ , Belkor!" The man was useless to him now, cracking under the strain of all that Cham had asked him to do until he had, finally, _broken_. He was a liability, and nothing more, but it would be over soon.

"Hello, Syndulla," was the smooth, calm, accented drawl on the other end, a voice that did nothing to soothe the Twi'lek.

" _Kenobi_."

"Communications are back up, if that wasn't obvious," Obi-Wan said softly. "You've lost, Cham. Pull back, save the troops you've got left."

" _I can't_ ," he hissed into the com. "I see them, Kenobi. Vader and the Emperor, they're _right there_!"

"...where."

"In the woods, I can _see them_ , they're in a Twi'lek village!" Syndulla said swiftly, his mind racing. He was out of time. "They've done impossible things, Kenobi, they escaped a Lylek hoard, they went _into their tunnels_ and came out alive! I have sights on them now, I can't let them go! But the Twi'leks in the village-"

"Kill them," Kenobi said swiftly, his voice without any feeling, and emotion at all, and Cham felt himself choke on whatever it was he could have replied with. "Your villagers are already dead," Kenobi dispassionately explained. "Just being witness to them was enough to seal their fates. If you want to make this final attempt, and I must reiterate, you _will_ fail, then to hell with the villagers and throw everything you have at them."

" _Why_ ," Cham growled, pure rage in his voice, an expression of intense emotion that just caused the man on the other end of the channel to sigh wearily. "If you think we will fail, why even try!"

"I don't think you will fail, I _know_ you will fail. As I have said from the beginning, Cham, the time is too soon. You battle against forces that are beyond your comprehension, but _I_ can see them. I can _feel_ them move everything in this galaxy toward a single purpose." He paused, and Cham was too shaken to speak. "But not now. Not yet."

"If we could just-"

"Belkor Dray is done," Kenobi quickly cut in. "Exposed as a traitor, and now he is hunted. Moff Mors is alive, and she is on her way. Soon, the area will be flooded with Imperials, Vader and the Emperor will be rescued, and your little rebellion will be at an end. Make your choice now, Cham. Either pull out now and save what you have left, or die pointlessly in another attempt against the inevitable. You have no other choice."

"You could come help us!" Cham cried frantically into the calm, aware of the eyes of his people on him. _Everything_ was lost. They couldn't stop now, not when so many lives have been wasted, sacrifices that would be for nothing if they just abandoned the chase. "I've heard the stories, Kenobi. I heard the Jedi talk about you during the Clone Wars. I _know_ what you're capable of. If you were here to help, we could win. We _would_ win!" Syndulla felt hope for only a moment when silence came over the calm, and that hope was shattered when Kenobi softly laughed.

"No, I'm afraid not," he said softly, a tone that would have sounded apologetic if Cham didn't know better. "You're out of time, and I'm far beyond your reach. And even if I _were_ still on Ryloth, I wouldn't come. The risk is too great, and I made a promise to return. No risk is worth breaking that promise, I have always been good for my word, if nothing else."

"Not on Ryloth..." Cham muttered. He felt somehow abandoned, though he knew he had no right to be.

"No," Kenobi said softly. "I'm off for Coruscant. I don't think there will be many times when the Imperial seat is left unoccupied as it is right now. It's a situation I must take advantage of while I can." Cham could almost feel the man smirk from across space. "I hear the Emperor has a collection of ancient knowledge that I have been _dying_ to get my hands on, and with the mess on Ryloth that you've made, I figure I have a few hours at the very least to raid the Imperial Palace."

"You're abandoning us?" Cham asked in disbelief. "For _books_?"

"Not _books_ , no, but close enough." For a moment, there was silence, and Cham could almost feel the man on the other end grow colder. "I gave you every opportunity, Syndulla. I'm not accountable for the mess you have created. Die or save yourself, I don't care which, but if you _do_ manage to survive, you know how to contact me."

There was static, then silence. Cham looked at his men, then down to the Twi'lek village where the Emperor and Vader sat, and he could hear the sounds of ships in the distance. Time was up. He had wasted it all for _nothing_. But so long as he lived, so long as he had men left to fight, he would. Cham stood, and ordered the remainder of his men to attack.


	6. The Carrion Spike - 13 BBY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this was going to go up last night but...it got long. Like, way longer than intended, but I think it's better for it. Again, this one covers the events of an entire book, that book being Tarkin. If you haven't read it, uh...why the hell are you still here? Go read it! Tarkin's a monster and I love it. After this chapter, things are going to start rolling pretty quickly. Another one-shot tomorrow, probably. I don't think I can get the next chapter of this one done in just a few hours. Alright, enough talk, let's go! Enjoy, my lovelies!

Imperial security had tightened considerably in the months following the insurgency on Ryloth. Tarkin had initially thought it was simply an added precaution, a response to the stunning efficiency of what should have been an impotent resistance movement. A Star Destroyer exploded, killing thousands of Imperial soldiers in the process and endangering the lives of not just the Senator from Ryloth, the corpulent Orn Free Taa, but the lives of the Emperor and his two... _special_ projects. It was enough for any regime to tighten security, and Tarkin knew very well from his service in the Republic that when things went wrong with ships of that size, everyone took note. Every ship the Negotiator stole from them made the Republic seem _weak_ , incapable of defending what was theirs, a blow that cut much deeper than simply the loss of a ship. Kenobi understood psychological warfare, and he waged it expertly.

Only the Ryloth disaster was _not_ Kenobi's doing, so far as anyone could tell, though the sudden increase in security _was_. The Emperor was, in short, paranoid, because in his absence, the Imperial Palace had been broken into, and things had been _stolen_. What those things were, Tarkin didn't know, but it had Palpatine in such a rage that the man had tightened his hold on _everything_ in an attempt to retrieve what he had lost. Members of the Imperial Security Bureau were dispatched in force not just to quell any rebellious sentiment that may have arisen due to the mess on Ryloth, but to see if they couldn't finally root out Kenobi, but without a pattern to his continuous attacks of mild annoyances, the man remained a shadow, a presence seen and keenly felt, but not one they could grasp.

But what directly concerned Tarkin was Palpatine's demand that his secret project be completed faster, and as soon as the Western Reaches were secure, Tarkin was transferred to Sentinel Base out in the Outer Rim's Arkanis sector. It was a move that many in the Empire saw as a demotion, a way for Palpatine to distance himself from Tarkin after a brutal and wildly unpopular, though effective, campaign to quell the Western Reaches. Tarkin never cared much for gossip. He understood the importance of the move, the necessity to place him so far out of reach in order to keep a close eye on the development of Palpatine's mobile battle station, the first of its kind, more powerful than any weapon the galaxy had ever seen.

The project had been troubled from the start. The mobile battle station was an idea that originated during the Clone Wars, though it was one that Tarkin was not a part of, due to his presence in the field serving beside Anakin Skywalker. The idea had been originally proposed by the Geonosians, but it was rejected by Count Dooku himself, because at the time, he had been dealing with his own world destroying weapon in the form of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the seething personification of hate that saw planets burn and worlds slaughtered. Eventually, the Republic took up the project under the watchful eyes of Orson Krennic, and that's where the trouble began.

Tarkin tried not to delve too deeply into Krennic's background. On its best day, it was messy and disorganized, marked by ambition far too great and failures due to reaching beyond his grasp. Betrayals, sabotage and failure marked the construction of the secret station, delaying its projected completion by several years. Even now, with resources pouring in from across the galaxy to construct its various pieces in factories spread across several different systems, the building was painfully slow. But with the Emperor's sudden need to tighten his grasp, Tarkin was put in charge of the project, tasked with overseeing its construction from remote Sentinel Base. The work wasn't _exciting_ , but it was important.

Until Sentinel Base was attacked. Everything changed after that.

It was a clever ploy, one that had utilized a tactic of diversion meant to draw Imperial forces away from the base, but Tarkin had seen through it, had recognized the falsification in the request he had received for aid from a nearby base that was supposedly under attack. But the attack had seemed _real_ , and the report received broadcast that attack live as it was happening, a thing that had fooled most of the officers on the base, but to Tarkin, who had fought the Separatists during their infiltration of the Republic's holonet, was able to detect the slight trace of a relay station that had been hijacked. The attack was a fabrication, created by a party that had hacked into the nearby communications relay, and in recognizing the danger, Tarkin kept his troops close, and thwarted an assault on Sentinel Base itself.

To put it mildly, Emperor Palpatine freaked out and Tarkin was summoned to Coruscant before the Moff had even sent the report. In light of the rebellion on Ryloth the previous year, the entire Empire was on edge, and when it came to maintaining the secrecy of the battle station, the Emperor was taking no chances. Palpatine had sent Vader with Tarkin aboard his personal ship, the recently completed stealth corvette, the _Carrion Spike_ , a feat of engineering to rival Obi-Wan's _Umbra_ , to investigate the attacks, which led them to the planet from where the Separatist Shadowfeed was originally established: Murkhana.

The planet was a mess, dirty and desolate, like so many Separatist worlds were rendered after that war, and though there was an Imperial compound located in the city, it didn't appear to be doing its job. The run-down houses that lined the thin, narrow streets were covered in anti-Imperial graffiti, and when they met with the officers stationed there, they had the feel of a group that was past the point of caring. It was a disgrace to the Empire that the troops stationed here hadn't made an example of the locals to quell this sort of sentiment. No wonder the mysterious rebels they faced were able to access the remnants of the Shadowfeed. Controlling the Outer Rim, it seemed, was a greater task than previously imagined.

"The state of this place is _reprehensible_ ," Tarkin growled to the officer at his side, a woman that looked both cowed and frustrated. "What is the point of maintaining an Imperial presence here at all if you are going to allow the locals to _shame us_."

"Sir, we have _tried_ ," said the exasperated officer, slowly leading the Moff and his intimidating, silent companion through the streets to the warehouse where the cache of communications equipment had been discovered. "I have requested more troops to help secure the city, but I have been denied _every time_. We try to clean this up," she gestured at the graffiti upon the walls, "but the next day, it is just back again. There's only so much I can do!"

"Have you tried _executing_ people?" Tarkin sneered, and the officer beside him blanched. This one would _never_ make it anywhere. "When my mission is complete, I'll return to show you how it's done."

"We should put this place out of its misery," Vader growled beside him, the first words he had said since they had landed upon the dying world, and the officer shivered.

"That seems almost too kind," Tarkin sniffled. "I would rather make an example of them, though it may very well come to that, yes." Tarkin turned again to the officer when they passed by an Imperial shipyard, the carriers stationed there in a state of disrepair that made it look as though any passengers aboard may be forced to carry it instead. "Explain the sorry state of _this_."

"Sabotage, sir. We aren't well liked by the locals."

"Nobody asked them to _like you_!" Vader snarled. He had enough of the incompetence here, and he turned quickly when a piece of scrap metal struck the crumbling stone wall of a building beside them. In an open hovel opposite the way stood a woman, hands defiantly on her hips as she looked at the Imperial troops, challenging them to respond to the scrap she had thrown at them, and the stormtroopers that accompanied them raised their weapons. Tarkin just rolled his eyes. The chastisement had not been intended to make them raise their weapons now that it was too late, it had been meant as a comment on their terrible performance up until now.

"Permission to execute?" one of the troopers asked.

"We came here to investigate, not start a riot," Tarkin quickly snapped when Vader laid his hand on his lightsaber, the woman scampering off at the first sign of something she didn't understand. "Mark my word, we will be returning here at the completion of our investigation to deal with the sorry state of this place." The officer beside him paled, understanding that he meant not just the upstart locals, but the Imperials that had failed here as well.

"The warehouse is just up ahead," the officer said, tense and nervous and trying to divert attention away from the failure on display to the success of locating the communications cache.

They walked in silence the rest of the way, the whistling of the wind through the narrow streets nearly drowning out the sound of the stormtrooper's armored boots on the rough, cracked pavement and the sound of Vader's pendulous breathing. They slowed considerably when the warehouse came into view, a towering structure that seemed as though it was made to house and build large, secret projects, a remnant of the war from when the Confederacy and their corporate allies did everything they could to keep their military secrets away from the eyes of Republic spies. Walking toward the front doors to the building, Tarkin was stopped when Vader's arm shot out to block his path, the Sith Lord tense and alert. Tarkin knew better than to ignore the instincts of one with the Force.

"Is something here?" he asked softly, but Vader didn't move."

"...perhaps," the Sith said thoughtfully, as if still trying to decipher the meaning of what it was he was sensing. Tarkin didn't want to say what he knew they were both thinking for fear that it may make it true. Use of the Shadowfeed to attempt to lure ships away from Sentinel Base was _exceedingly_ clever, and it seemed to suggest that Obi-Wan Kenobi may be involved. The subsequent _actual_ attack, however, had been clumsy and ill-prepared, something that the Sith Lord would never have allowed. The rebels were forced to be clever in order to survive against the iron grip of the Empire, yes, but was Kenobi not a rebel himself? His involvement in this attack seemed just as likely as his absence. They would find out soon enough.

"He's not _here_ , Governor Tarkin," Vader said quietly, as if sensing the man's concerns, and Tarkin stiffened, his back straight and rigid.

"In the past, you have been unable to sense him," Tarkin said, stepping closer to the Sith as if that would somehow be safer, and he _hated_ himself for it. It felt like weakness. "How can you be certain?" His companion was silent for a long moment, his even breathing slow and thoughtful.

"This is true," Vader said slowly. "Before, I was not in tune with the darker tides of the Force. Perhaps I would still be unable to. Perhaps he is just...a shadow. But even a shadow changes the way things are perceived." Tarkin frowned. He never understood the ways of the Force, nor did he wish to. It was intangible, and without the ability to feel it, it would forever remain a mystery. It was a dying thing anyway. Without the Jedi, there were very few left who understood the ways of the Force, and Tarkin put no stock in things that were dying.

"He is _not_ here," Vader said again, this time with confidence. "This is a trap."

Tarkin hissed in irritation as he surveyed the building before them. There was always the possibility that this was a trap. The communications cache had been a fortuitous find, one that had been well-timed and was _extremely_ convenient. But, as the Emperor had said, sometimes, one must knowingly walk into a trap to learn who had set it. Tarkin wasn't a fan of walking into traps without a plan first, and without a clear motive for the attackers on Sentinel Base, it was difficult to bait their own trap. If this _was_ a trap as Vader suspected, Tarkin wouldn't be walking into it. There would be more on the way. This investigation was far from over.

"Send for probe droids," Tarkin said after a moment's consideration. "All you have in the arsenal, _if_ you have any. And you," he said, pointing to one of his own men that he had brought with him off the _Carrion Spike_ , "you are to return to the ship and retrieve the probe droids I have stored in the hold. There should be six. Bring them all." The soldier saluted, and quickly ran off to do as he was ordered. "The rest of you," he said, turning to the stormtroopers, "I want this place surveyed. Take note of every entrance, every design flaw, every window, every mark that seems out of place. _Everything_. Scout the roof as well, buildings this large were often used to build huge machines and weapons, and they usually had roof access for swift and secret transport."

The stormtroopers scattered, quickly scrambling to do as they were bid. They may have been incompetent in the management of Murkhana's defiant population, but Tarkin attributed that to a fault in the command. Under the right supervision, these soldiers would do exactly as they were bid. The only thing to do now was wait. Waiting was easy enough. Tarkin was a patient man. Even Vader at his side seemed resolved to wait, though he was a far deal more tense, his arms crossed tightly, his breathing almost a deep, persistent growl, as it always was when he felt something he could not place. Tarkin decided to ignore him. Keeping eyes on Vader was only making him tense and irritated as well. He turned his gaze out toward the town, and thought about what lay just beyond it.

The _Carrion Spike_. A ship partially of his own design, one he had collaborated on with the company that had built her, the corvette was a marvel of engineering, one of the fastest, most advanced ships in the Imperial Navy, and came equipt with a stealth drive to rival the one that Kenobi had equipt on the _Umbra_. At one hundred and fifty meters in length, the _Carrion Spike_ was a fair deal bigger than the _Umbra_ , and much more heavily armed. And she was _fast_ , easily faster than any ship of her size that the Empire possessed. She was a personal achievement for Tarkin, one of his few possessions that he took pride in, and it gave him the unique advantage of being able to hide in plain sight, a dangerous thing in the hands of a hunter, an advantage that Kenobi had over them for years, but now, that was at an end.

The officer returned with the activated probe droids following closely behind, and with the warehouse in sight, the droids floated quickly toward it, immediately setting to scanning the warehouse for anything even remotely suspicious. One began to beep incessantly, which drew the attention of the other droids to it, and moments later, the technicians were interpreting the readouts, observing what the droids had identified as a triggering device upon one of the doors within. Vader's hunch had been correct. This was a trap, and were they careless, they would have been caught in an explosion and killed.

The commotion brought about by discovering a bomb and the subsequent planning to disable it and save the potentially incriminating information cache was almost enough for Tarkin to not notice the soft roar of a ship's engines, the high-pitched whine as the thrusters were engaged, and the moment he realized _where_ it was coming from, dread gripped the Moff. The building wasn't the trap. Just _being there_ was. Without a word to anyone, Tarkin turned and ran back into the town and through the cramped and dirty streets, Vader on his heels a moment later, flying past the smaller shipyard that could be seen through the dilapidated building and toward the much larger landing pad just outside town where the _Carrion Spike_ had set down.

They arrived just in time to see elongated, arrow-shaped ship growing smaller and smaller in the sky as it quickly approached the atmosphere. On the landing pad, the Imperial crew that had manned the ship were in varying stages of undress and engaging in... _acts_ with each other, debauched and wanton in pairs or in groups, regardless of gender, of three, four, or more, in one case. They seemed to have no awareness as to where they were, no recognition that their Moff and _Darth Vader_ just ran up and were looking upon them with a mix of horror and disgust and _rage_. Absolutely oblivious that they were standing outside, completely exposed to anyone who cared to look at Imperial soldiers and officers on the tarmac rutting like _animals_. If he wasn't going to destroy Murkhana before, Tarkin certainly was going to now. This humiliation couldn't be seen by _anyone_.

But the thing that made Vader the most angry, the thing that caused the Sith Lord to positively scream with rage was the large, black sphere that sat where the _Carrion Spike_ had been parked not five minutes before. His pressurized chamber. A meditation chamber of sorts, Tarkin was given to understand, one that allowed the Sith Lord to escape the confines of his suit for at least a little while. And on its jet black, flawless surface was a square of white, a glaring flaw that stained the otherwise midnight perfection. They slowly approached, cautious and uncertain as if the entire thing were rigged to explode, and when they were close enough to touch it, Vader reached out and took the page off the sphere.

 _My dearest Wilhuff_ , the note said in an elegant scrawl, _I thank you so very much for the gift to celebrate this momentous occasion. Six years of Imperial rule already! I have a gift for you as well, though mine is not nearly so elaborate, I think you will find it_ _just as useful. I would have brought your crew with me, but...they had in mind other ways of celebrating. Happy Empire Day, my friend!_ _I'll be seeing you_ very _soon._

"Governor!" Tarkin and Vader both slowly turned to look at the origin of the voice, both men shaking in rage as they looked upon the officer that Tarkin had sent to retrieve the droids from his now absent ship. In his hands, he held a small package, which he held out to the pair, and Tarkin looked suspicious and disbelieving into the officer's blank, hazy eyes. He slowly opened the package and took out a datapad, the gift from his ship thief, and turned it on. There, on the front screen, in full color display, was the galaxy's most complete collection of Gungan pornography.

"He said he knows what you like, sir," the officer said in a thick, slurred voice, and without a second thought, Tarkin drew his blaster and shot the officer in the head, his eyes trained up into the sky where his ship had been not long before. He was stranded on Murkhana, no ship on the planet even close to fast enough to catch the _Carrion Spike_. Like so many others, as seemed to be in the man's nature, his ship, his pride and joy, had been _stolen_ by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

* * *

As the lines of hyperspace filled the viewport, the ship hardly jolting at all as it made the jump, Obi-Wan leaned back in the pilot's seat, his hands behind his head and his feet upon the command console of the _Carrion Spike_. It was a _lovely_ ship, a custom corvette that was made for purpose over pleasure, utility over luxury, just like the man it was built for. That didn't keep it from being sleek in design, elegant in its simplicity, marvelous in its power. He lazily ran his hand over one of the screens before him, examining the ship's specifications with an admiring eye. She was more powerful than the _Umbra_ , much more powerful, equipt with an arsenal of a much larger ship, but with the speed of a smaller one. True, she wasn't as fast as his own ship, but with power like this, the _Carrion Spike_ would have very little it would actually need to run from.

"When are we going to attack?" said a man behind him, and Kenobi rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of his furious pacing, a nervous habit of his, his companions had said. After the mess on Ryloth, Kenobi had decided to take a more active hand in what he saw as valuable assets, not helping them in attacks of their own, but by intercepting them and turning their anger to greater, smarter purpose. That he hadn't heard from Cham Syndulla was expected, but it made him bitter none the less. There were lots of people in the Free Ryloth movement, and now, the dead movement had _lots_ of dead members. Kenobi wasn't sure if Cham had lived, and quite frankly, he didn't care. He was too short-sighted, too reckless, too impulsive, too... _violent_ for these early stages of rebellion.

Just like Berch Teller was proving to be.

This particular group had been brought to his attention by Bail Organa himself, and he was doing this as a personal favor for Alderaan's Prince, mostly because their plans intersected with his own on several points. He had his eye on the _Carrion Spike_ since he had learned about its creation from the Imperial database on Ryloth, and this particular rebel cell had their eyes on Tarkin since the Antar Atrocity a few years back. Since the _Carrion Spike_ was Tarkin's ship, a vessel of great strength and, by extension, great pride, their interests intersected, even if the motivation was different. Berch Teller had wanted to steal the ship to attack Imperial targets, to turn Tarkin's personal pride into his personal shame, the ship of the Moff to be remembered as a weapon against the Empire instead of one for it. Kenobi just loved a good ship.

These rebels had all been involved on Antar during the Clone Wars, and several had been present when Tarkin had incited the mass arrest and execution against the population. For Bail Organa, these people had been ideal for his rebellion. Skilled people, people who had fought in the Clone Wars, people with personal grudges against Palpatine's tyrannical regime and who had the strength to fight back. For Kenobi, however, only one of these people held any interest to him, and it had been why he had ultimately decided to take these people along and show them how to capture a ship the _right_ way.

Her name was Anora Fair, and she was a journalist, and those that had the courage to put their names to anti-Imperial editorials as she had done were exceedingly rare. The woman had contacts, silent supporters of hers that made sure her work was seen on the holonet, made certain that what she had to say got out, and that alone was enough to warrant interest. It was her that Kenobi had contacted, and he had promised her a story, one far, far more damaging than anything her group could accomplish through violence. Something that could, in no way, ever be turned to the Empire's favor, could ever be spun to make the Imperials look like the good guys, and with the promise of a good story too good to pass up, Anora had convinced the others in her rebel cell to join forces with the Separatist Negotiator to accomplish their goals.

Teller didn't like it, but Obi-Wan had dismissed Teller as an ass, and his opinion didn't matter.

"We aren't going to attack," Obi-Wan said softly when Teller had asked the question again, this time louder, slower, as if Kenobi hadn't heard him before. "There is no benefit in attacking the Empire."

" _No benefit_?" Teller growled, grabbing the back of the pilot's seat and spinning it around to face him, Kenobi's feel slipping off the console that served as his foot rest. He _wasn't_ pleased. "No benefit!" Berch repeated. "The destruction of Imperial property, damaging the Empire!" Kenobi laughed, loud and harsh, leaving no room to doubt what he thought of that idea.

"Damage the Empire. You think you can damage the Empire? No single ship can deal damage to them. The destruction of a few bases means _nothing_ to them. All you will succeed in doing is getting yourselves captured and killed, and it will just be another example for people to see _why_ they shouldn't oppose Palpatine." Teller's jaw clenched tightly shut, his eyes narrowed in anger, and Obi-Wan felt... _frustration_ from him. He knew Kenobi was right, and he _hated it_. "Besides, it's Empire Day, and I have a birthday party to get to."

Teller started to say something, but he snapped his mouth shut, not to restrain himself, but to organize his racing thoughts. He brought a finger to his temple and rubbed, groaning softly as Kenobi began to sift through his mind. He didn't like Berch Teller. He didn't like Berch Teller for the same reason he didn't like Cham Syndulla. They were both leaders, both products of war that took action against what they saw as injustice. This was a great thing to have in a rebellion leader...but not now. In a few years, perhaps, but now, the rebellion needed people that understood that change doesn't happen with a single act. That words and ideas were more powerful than actions and harder to fight against. He needed the Anora Fair's of the galaxy, not the Berch Teller's. It may pay off to have the man killed before he destroyed something.

"You steal," Teller began, "one of the most dangerous ships in the galaxy, and you _aren't_ going to be attacking Imperial targets?" His face reddened. "What are you planning to do with it!?"

"I don't know..." Obi-Wan mused. "I haven't decided yet. It _is_ rather high-profile, isn't it? Keeping it is out of the question, not when Tarkin will be hunting for it. Eventually, that man finds what he's looking for..."

"You don't have a plan?!" Teller cried. "Steal a ship, _that_ was your plan? Then what! _We_ had a plan! We had a list of targets we were going to hit! Why are we even following you?!"

"Hey, Anora?" Obi-Wan asked, craning his neck to see over Teller's shoulder to the dark skinned woman sitting at the communication's console. "How's your report going?" She leaned back to look at him and grinned.

"Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader Oversee Imperial Orgy," she read from her display, pulling up the holographic display and projecting it in the center of the aisle between her station and the pilot's seat. " _And_ the good people of Murkhana are posting their own recordings of this. In ten minutes, the entire galaxy is going to have the file on their datapads." The woman's smile brightened and she batted long lashes at him. "We were right to trust you. This is _perfect_ , dear, thank you."

Kenobi could almost hear Cody scoff, even though the clone wasn't on the ship. He was waiting at their first rendevous point in the _Umbra_ , a task that Kenobi would entrust to nobody else. _Ever_. A small, cocky smile spread across his lips. Anora was _flirting_ , not an uncommon thing for Kenobi to experience, but it was something he usually ignored. On a normal day, Obi-Wan would celebrate a successful ship-jacking and some Imperial shaming by reciprocating and bending her over the control console, but today, he needed to focus. Today, his precious kids were turning _six_. He could feel his chest swelling with pride. They were growing so fast, becoming so strong! Soon enough, he would be giving them their first set of Mandalorian armor and taking them with him on smaller, safer missions, showing them the galaxy that he was working to save.

This year, they were getting their first lightsabers. Not anything more than simple training blades, something that Jedi Yoda had helped him craft. Rancor Yoda helped as well. They sat on him while they made them. They weren't much, but it was a big step for the twins. One day, they may come to make their own real weapons, just as Obi-Wan had done. Ilum had been ravaged by the Empire, yes, but it wasn't the only place where kyber crystals grew. Worst came to worst, he could always kill an Inquisitor or two. It was how Ahsoka got _her_ new crystals to power her new white blades.

Kenobi pointed toward the holographic image. " _That_ is why you're following me. I'm not an idiot. You don't do damage to the Empire by destroying their things, that's the work of a petulant child. You do damage by ruining their ability to cause _fear_. Fear is their weapon, not ships or armies or military stations. _Fear_."

Teller _growled_. "If we attacked-"

"Have you met Cham Syndulla?" Obi-Wan asked, sighing heavily and looking _bored._ "Lovely fellow, had a rebel cell. All dead." He paused to meet Berch's eyes. " _All of them_. Because he was an idiot. Because he didn't listen to me. Sure, he might be alive somewhere, but he isn't fighting. He can't. He took down a _Star Destroyer_ , and not just any one, Vader's personal flagship. And you know who talks about them now, a year later?" Teller didn't answer. He didn't need to. _Nobody_ talked about it. Behind him, he could feel the members of his crew shift uncomfortably. Kenobi was winning them to his side.

"We have no reason to even trust you," Teller growled, trying to be dominating and commanding, and while he could feel his men sway back toward him, Kenobi just looked...amused. Like a father watching a child struggle with a new, unfamiliar task. "All of us know each other from Antar, all of us fought for the Republic during the war." He pointed an accusing finger at the bemused Kenobi. " _You_ weren't just a Separatist, you were their _leader_."

"For a time, yes," Obi-Wan said, indifferent, and his calm seemed to smooth the edge of the crew that Teller had just sharpened.

"You are responsible for atrocities on Antar at the _start_ of the war!" Teller snarled. "You are just as guilty as Tarkin!" Obi-Wan laughed.

"Boy, I have been accused of a lot of things because I have _done_ a lot of things. The crushing victory on Umbara. The burning of Ord Mantel. The slaughter of Oba Diah, all these are things I've done." He could see the people draw back, some of them paling, one of them covering her mouth in horror, another retching, violent, savage moments that stood out in a violent, savage war. Even Teller looked horrified. "But I have _never_ been accused of crimes against Antar. _That_ , my friend, was the Jedi."

"Y-you're a monster anyway!" Teller snarled, and Kenobi just smiled at him. "We have no business following _you_. This was our plan to begin with, and now that you've done what you said, you best get out of the way. There are six of us and only one of you, so _move_ before you get hurt." Kenobi didn't move. But Teller did. Eyes bulging and hands flying to his neck as he suddenly choked, Teller was lifted off the ground, his legs kicking frantically and the toes of his boot scraping against the ground.

"...sorry, are we trying to be intimidating?" Obi-Wan asked sweetly after a long silence, the ship reverting to sublight near a remote world deep in Hutt Space, far, _far_ from the reach of the Empire. After a moment, the scanners picked up the _Umbra_ and without looking, Kenobi tapped in the access codes to allow his ship to dock with the stolen corvette. "Clearly, you have done your research on me," he said softly, his fingers gently waving in the air, and Teller was dropped hard to his knees before the Sith Lord. "You must have heard I'm Force sensitive, though I imagine that anything else you've heard is a great deal of rumor and speculation."

The doors to the cockpit slid open, but nobody turned to look at the newcomer. There were staring transfixed, terrified of the dangerous man in their presence. "You started the party without me?" Cody asked, mildly offended as he pushed past the scared people and threw himself into the copilot's seat.

"The party never starts without you, lover," Kenobi drawled, and the clone leaned back, a broad grin on his face. "Do we have time?"

"Yeah, we've got time." Kenobi nodded swiftly and released Teller from his grasp, the man gasping for air between pained coughing.

"I've done my research too," Obi-Wan drawled. "On all of _you_." He pointed to each of the rebels in turn, each one paling as he did. "A captain in Republic Intelligence. A pilot. A smuggler. An operations specialist. An engineer. A reporter. And a holonet specialist." Kenobi grinned. "Each and every one of you working to take vengeance against Moff Wilhuff Tarkin for the Antar Atrocity." He clicked his tongue as if he were scolding them. "So small minded, so short sighted. A group with such talent deserves better, which is where _I_ come in. See, a friend of mine got wind of your little plan and passed the information on to me. We have a need of talented people."

"And you want us?" Anora asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. This man _had_ helped, after all, had given them exactly what he had promised and more. At the very least, he was worth listening to.

Kenobi didn't answer for a moment as he looked around the room. "...yes," he finally said, "I think some of you, under the right leadership, have what we are looking for." He left out the part about their little rebel leader not being involved in those plans. He was too angry, too obsessed, and it was making him short-sighted. Teller would go after Tarkin directly, he had no doubt of that, and Teller would die. There was no other outcome. Were he to join, he would be a threat to the secrecy of Bail's organization, and were Organa to be exposed by someone so reckless, Leia would be in danger. If Teller capitulated now, Kenobi would have to kill him himself.

"There are other rebels?" another, a Mon Calamari asked.

"Yes. Lots, all angry, just like you, all willing to put aside their individual vendettas to have the chance of dealing with the root of the problem. I was ultimately sent to keep you guys anonymous in the theft of the _Carrion Spike_. Stealing ships is sort of what I do, and knowing I'm involved means that Tarkin and Vader stop looking for people involved. I'm just about all they can take." Obi-Wan smiled softly as the group laughed, nervous at first, but quickly relaxing.

"Tarkin would have eventually figured out who you were, and he would have rooted out everyone involved with your little group and you _all_ would have been killed," Cody drawled, yawning as he turned to look at the ship's controls.

"Now!" Kenobi said, clapping his hands together. " _My_ people have been able to trace you to a Vice Admiral in the Imperial Navy, Dodd Rancit, and since your involvement in this is secret, so is his." He flashed them a grin. "He's just using you, of course, to advance his own position, betraying you all was part of the plan." Jaws dropped, they all began asking how it was he came to know _any_ of this, but Kenobi held up a hand and they fell silent. "As I said, I did my research, and my people are _very_ good. Time, Cody?"

The clone shrugged. "We've got time."

"One attack," he said, leaning forward in his seat. "The _Carrion Spike_ has one attack run in her, and after that, I'm crashing her on the nearest planet."

"We can do more than that!" Teller snarled, and both Cody and Kenobi rolled their eyes.

"No, we can't," Obi-Wan said, his tone leaving no room for argument, though the obstinate Teller looked as though he wished to argue. "I've selected a target that will do _actual_ damage to the Empire. It's nothing that you will see on the holonet, nothing so impressive as a military base or a production factory, but I'm not looking to be a resistance symbol, I'm looking to piss off Palpatine." He paused. "Also, I have a birthday party to get to, so..."

"You would deny our targets, our revenge for Antar," Teller said, teeth grit, "so you can get to a _birthday party_?!"

"Princess, I would murder you all _right now_ if keeping you alive would keep me from getting there!" Obi-Wan said, strong and forceful, and they laughed for a moment until they realized that he was serious. "My proposal," the Sith said after a moment, "is you abandon your course and come fight for something greater. When we're done with the _Carrion Spike_ , you all get on _my_ ship, and I take you to meet my friend, you forget about the revenge business and leave Tarkin alone. Lend your talents to an _actual_ rebellion."

"Are you trying to recruit _my people_?" Teller hissed, but Kenobi just smiled at him.

"I think I already have." Teller looked back to see the others talking quietly among themselves, and he hung his head, defeated, but resolved to see his own course through. He didn't need the others, he just needed a clear shot at Tarkin, and one way or another, he would get it.

* * *

Obi-Wan had to remind himself several times that he was doing this for Prince Bail Organa, the man that was helping to raise dear, sweet Leia. The man that was helping to build a rebellion that would topple an Empire. The man that, given the opportunity, would _probably_ kill him. Bail wanted these people for his cause, and admittedly, the reporter was a _very_ good find on Ahsoka's part, but it was Kenobi's inclination to let them die pointlessly against Tarkin. The Moff needed to keep his edges sharp, after all, and that edge was made fine and dangerous with blood. Sure, he had _plenty_ on his hands, but Obi-Wan imagined that the blood of symbols of a bold resistance somehow tasted sweeter. As the Sith always said, if there was a tool to be used, it would be a waste not to use it. Cham had been a waste. This group would not be.

Except for Teller. Teller needed to die.

The _Carrion Spike_ arrived out of hyperspace in the Arkanis sector, the place where this whole mess began with the attack on Sentinel Base. That wasn't the destination, though. Their target were the convoys that were headed to Geonosis. Obi-Wan had tried once to get to Geonosis after he had been made aware that _something_ was happening there, though what that something was, he didn't know. _Nobody_ seemed to know. All he knew was that the planet was heavily guarded, far too much to even risk going there in the cloaked protection of the _Umbra_. But the convoys, the ones carrying shipment after shipment to Geonosis, weren't nearly so protected.

As he cut the _Carrion Spike_ through the convoy, the fast ship powerful and responsive beneath his hands, he opened fire with turbolasers and ion cannons, tearing through the helpless convoys like they were nothing, coming out of stealth to destroy the ships that protected the cargo before he turned his attentions to the transport ships as they attempted to flee. The slow, heavy-laden cargo ships were no match for Kenobi's expert piloting, and when he had run down the long line, unloading the ship's powerful armaments upon the frantic, scattering convoy and destroyed all in sight, he engaged the stealth systems and headed for the next supply line he had scouted in the months before.

Whatever it was they were building, it was _big_ , and though Obi-Wan had no idea what it was that was in the convoys he was destroying, the supply lines didn't constantly run. They were on a schedule, delivering things as needed or as completed at other building locations, which meant by the time the convoys made it to Geonosis, they were carrying the sum of possible _months_ worth of work and labor, which could delay this secret project for a very long time. Sidious wouldn't be so careless in the future, so he needed to make the most of it now when he had the benefit of two stealth ships to work with.

On their third supply line, Obi-Wan thought he heard... _something_. Something in the Force, something once melodic and sweet now dissonant and sour, a sound that almost made him cringe as he leaned over and opened the communication channel between the _Carrion Spike_ and the _Umbra_. "Cody," he said softly, eyes fixed out the forward viewport as he destroyed the last of the convoy's guard, a compliment much greater with heavier firepower when compared to the others. "See if you can't grab the cargo off one of those ships. I'll cover you."

Cody whistled. "That could take some time."

"So turn on the stealth and get to work. I'll destroy the rest of the convoy after you pick a target." Obi-Wan paused. "Why? Do we have time?"

"Yeah, we got time," Cody drawled, clearly amused. "I'll get your cargo, boss." With a grin, Obi-Wan banked the _Carrion Spike_ hard to port, rolling the ship to make the turn as tight as he could, and he pushed the accelerator forward, diving beneath the ships as they scattered and pulling up on the yoke hard, the ion cannons firing at the undefended ships from below. Their attacks had been going quickly and much more smoothly than he anticipated. For such a supposedly important, secret project, the Imperials were shockingly ill-prepared to deal with an attack by a ship as powerful as the _Carrion Spike_ , and they were proving to be slow to respond to the threat. That's what they got for setting up base in a remote Outer Rim system, though Kenobi suspected that they wouldn't be this easy to attack again.

"This isn't the sort of material you want," Obi-Wan quietly explained to Anora, the woman sitting strapped in to the seat just behind him. "This is the sort of stuff that the Empire can turn into pro-Imperial propaganda."

"Because Imperials are killed?" she asked, her attention rapt as she watched him expertly fly around the convoy, destroying every ship that crossed his sights and avoiding the debris field that was steadily growing.

"Among other things. Billions of credits essentially burned in attacks that destroy expensive equipment, innocent people killed in collateral damage, basically anything where lives are lost, they can twist to their advantage to make you look like the monsters." Obi-Wan looked back at her and grinned. "Nothing beats a good scandal, though."

"I think I can manage to report on that sort of thing," Anora said with a sly grin.

"I'll be happy to provide the material." Before he saw anything, Obi-Wan felt it and pulled the yoke sideways, sending the _Carrion Spike_ careening into a sudden spin and sending anyone not strapped in flying across the halls and striking walls as they tumbled. With a curse, Kenobi righted himself just in time to see a Star Destroyer revert to real space right before them, and immediately, he could feel the shifting in the Force, the sudden disturbance that could only be cause by another of his kind. Vader was on that ship. "Hey, Cody?" Kenobi said into the open com. "I think we're out of time."

"I think you might be right," the clone mumbled. "I have your cargo, what's the plan?"

"Jump the system," he said without delay, entering in his own jump coordinates and frowning when he saw the ship needed three minutes to calculate. They had taken some minor damage in a fight with a heavy cruiser when they attacked the second supply line. The damage wasn't severe, but it was apparently enough to make the ship complain. "As soon as I have a plan, I'll contact you and we'll meet at the final target so we can dock and get everyone on the _Umbra_."

"Understood," Cody said quickly, and the com was disengaged as the stealth ship made the jump out of the system. With a few taps on the control console, Obi-Wan primed the stealth systems, and the com channel began to beep furiously as Imperial codes overrode the restrictions, and a moment later, the _Carrion Spike_ was patched through to the Star Destroyer, and the cockpit filled with the sound of Darth Vader's heavy breathing.

Kenobi put his finger to his lips as he tried to repress a grin, calling for the silence of the others, and they quickly obeyed. "Why, hello, sweetie!" Obi-Wan chirped, his smile growing wider when he heard a low, menacing growl underneath the regulated breathing. "Did you miss me?"

"It's over, Lumis," Vader said, voice heavy and thick with anger that Kenobi could feel through the Force.

"Hey now, don't insult Tarkin's ship!" Kenobi said in mock offense, grinning when he heard the Moff himself cursing in the background. "She's _wonderfully_ built, my compliments to you, Wilhuff." Angry shuffling followed, curses and barked commands as the sound of Vader's breathing grew softer, the man moved away from the com system, and Obi-Wan, seeing the system now primed and ready, activated the stealth drive, the ship vanishing from sight. There was still two minutes until the jump was ready. The _Carrion Spike_ , like the man it was made for, was being a little bitch.

"There is _nowhere_ you can run, Kenobi," Tarkin snarled into the com, his temper flared and his voice tight and angry. "I know that ship better than anyone. I know its strengths and its weaknesses, and I can track its _every move_ now that I have a lock on her."

"Really?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised. "Can you track stupidity? Because really, I have _no_ idea what I'm doing here." The com suddenly cut, and Kenobi frowned. He had hoped he could keep the man talking, but it seemed as though Tarkin was content to destroy his ship if it meant taking Kenobi down with it. Obi-Wan slammed the yoke forward, the ship's nose whipping down as it dove, the accelerator pushed as far forward as it could go, and the engines roared in effort as maximum power was engaged. Space lit up with lines of green energy as the Star Destroyer's cannons shot blindly at a target they couldn't see, and with a minute to go before the jump, all Kenobi could do was dodge and evade the barrage in a ship he was only marginally familiar with.

The _Umbra_ was sleeker, faster and handled better than the long, aptly named _Carrion Spike_ , though the ship he piloted now could take more abuse, which was good, because despite his best efforts, the shields were taking a fair bit of punishment. Still, he stayed in the cover of stealth, refusing to fire back lest he give away his position, which would have been enough had the TIE fighters not been dispatched, and at their head was a Special Operations TIE that Kenobi recognized all too well. Not much bigger than the others, its hexagonal wings curved inwards instead of standing straight at the ship's sides, the smoother design making the already fast ship even faster, though more difficult to control. However, in the hands of the pilot that sat within, that didn't matter, and unlike the others, Darth Vader flew with the Force.

There were still thirty seconds left.

"I need a plan _now_ ," Kenobi snapped to the people behind him. "I was going to try to get the ship to crash on Geonosis, but that isn't ever going to happen, not with everyone on high alert. You have targets, give me one!"

"Galidraan Station," Teller said quickly, the man shifting in his seat as the ship shook as its shields were bombarded by fire from the TIE Fighters that followed Vader's attack vector. "There are large garrisons of Imperial troops stationed there."

"Lucazec mining facilities," the Gotal in the copilots seat said. "The Empire is mining for resources there."

"The Nouane System!"

"The Carida System!"

"Are you _crazy_?" Kenobi snapped, his teeth grit as he suddenly pulled back on the accelerator and the ship lurched to a sudden stop as the reverse thrusters engaged, Vader's TIE shooting past them, and the _Carrion Spike_ rocked from the impact of the other two Tie Fighters ramming into the back of the ship and exploding on impact, red warning lights flashing in the cockpit as alarms blared. The shields, finally, were down, and there was damage to the engines. With Vader's ship now in front of him, Kenobi thrust the accelerator into the forward position, the ship rocketing forward as he opened fire on Vader, giving away their position, but forcing the other Sith Lord to take evasive action to avoid getting hit. Just as Vader managed to get his TIE back into position facing the _Carrion Spike_ , the hyperspace jump calculations were completed, and the ship shuddered as it bolted forward, and then it was gone.

The calming blue and white of hyperspace filled the viewport, but nothing was calm on the _Carrion Spike_. Kenobi managed to disable the warning lights and alarms within a few moments, and he reeled on the crew that sat pale and nervous in their seats. He quickly checked his datapad. He was going to _miss his party_.

" _Those_ were your targets?" he asked again, completely indignant. "Nouane and Carida are Mid Rim and Inner Rim systems, who the hell decided on those targets?!" When nobody answered, Kenobi groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Vice Admiral Rancit gave you those targets. I'm _telling you_ , he's setting you up. Nothing on his list is viable. He's looking to advance himself by destroying you, which I _completely_ understand, but honestly, I have a party to get to."

"Where are we headed to now?" Anora asked softly, a hand on his shoulder.

"Geonosis..." Obi-Wan said absently, and put his hand up for silence when he felt the others tense, heard the objections within their minds, and he quietly gathered his own thoughts. "We _aren't_ going there, obviously, but Tarkin thinks so. He had a lock on the ship, he saw our coordinates, and he's going to rush to meet us there. We have five minutes before we arrive, so I need a new target _fast_ so we can drop out, recalculate, and be on our way."

There was silence, and then, from the back of the group, a quiet, warbling voice said "Desolation Station." Obi-Wan turned in his seat, looking down the length of the cockpit, and the rebels parted, the Mon Calamari stepping forward. "I worked there, for a time," he said, more firmly now that he seemed to have the Sith Lord's attention. "It's a scientific laboratory, they're conducting hyperdrive research there. I don't know for what, but it's something big. Something secret." He paused, looking at Kenobi for approval, and when he said nothing, the Mon Calamari continued. "The supply lines we attacked often go through there first." That settled it. With a nod, Obi-Wan deactivated the hyperdrive, the _Carrion Spike_ lurching to a sudden stop as the blue and white snapped back into the dotted stars in the black of space. There was nothing around, no sign on the radar indicating any nearby ships, and he waved his hand, indicating to the navicomputer, and the Mon Calamari quickly strode to it and entered the coordinates.

As before, the _Carrion Spike_ complained about calculating the jump, this calculation taking close to five minutes for completion, almost as if the ship itself were reluctant to be put to use against the Empire it was made for. Obi-Wan activated the stealth drive, cloaking the ship from sight and scanners, and in quiet safety, he opened a com channel to Cody and sent him the new coordinates, a parsec away from the target so they could all make it to the safety of the _Umbra_.

Except for Teller. He had plans for him.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, reaching out through the Force to feel far beyond the lives of those within the _Carrion Spike_. The Dark Side felt calm, cold in its patient wrath, but undisturbed, just as it should be, and in his meditations, his thoughts couldn't help but drift to Luke and Leia. With the rebel activity and the secret project on Geonosis and the knowledge of his direct involvement in both, Obi-Wan had taken the twins the day before to spend time with their weird, green Uncle Yoda, and had made Qui-Gon promise to keep an eye on them while they were there. Were something to go wrong, Organa could be exposed, which would put sweet Leia in danger, and Geonosis was uncomfortably close to Tatooine, which made him worry constantly about Luke. That the desert world wasn't swarming with Imperials by now was a good indication that there was nothing of value to the Empire there, which Kenobi was eternally grateful for, even if Luke thought the planet was a bit of a bore.

"We won't have much time once we rendevous with Cody," Obi-Wan said softly, the other jumping as the silence was broken. "Gather in the docking bay. The faster we are, the more likely our success." The nodded, quietly muttered their compliance, and slowly left. All but Teller. He stayed rooted to his place, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes narrowed in anger, his friends trying to get him to move, but he wouldn't. Kenobi smiled softly to himself, and opened his eyes only when he felt that he and Teller were alone in the cockpit.

"You are a man," Kenobi began softly, "running on the plan of an Imperial that means to betray you, meaning you have no plan of your own."

"I do," he said, short and terse. "I'm going to kill Tarkin, this _whole thing_ has been about disgracing him, about ruining his legacy, about watching him die."

"Then you're going about it wrong." The frankness of the statement made Teller bristle, but Kenobi paid it no mind. "I don't like to get involved with groups," Obi-Wan said, crossing his leg over his knee. "You rebel cells are too... _radical_ , too impulsive, too difficult to manage and short-sighted, but unfortunately, I find myself invested in those who _are_ committed to an organized rebellion, and your short forays, your personal vendettas...they're ruining the bigger picture."

"And you somehow think that Tarkin is vital to the big picture?" Teller snarled, growing more vicious than before. "If we kill him, we can put an end to his evil!"

"He's a cunning asset to the Empire, to be sure," Obi-Wan drawled, steepling his fingers as he leaned back. "But he's just a symptom of the actual problem. If Tarkin dies, Emperor Palpatine will replace him with someone worse, and before you say _anything_ ," he said, his finger extended and silencing Teller with the Force, "yes, there are men in this galaxy worse than Wilhuff Tarkin."

The moment Teller was released, he lurched forward and gasped, "But _Antar_ -"

"Oh, one small massacre and he's suddenly the galaxy's worst person..." He sighed and looked at the flustered man. "I don't think you can kill him. I think you are too much like Cham Syndulla. I think your failure is _guaranteed_. You reach too far."

"You underestimate me," Teller growled, and Obi-Wan had him where he wanted. He was angry, he felt challenged, he sought justice, and he had something to prove. It was everything he needed to put Teller on the path to his own death.

"...perhaps you're right," Obi-Wan said softly. "Cham Syndulla may have failed to assassinate the Emperor and Vader, but maybe you can succeed in killing Tarkin." He thrust his thumb toward the back of the ship. "There's an escape shuttle in the back. Take it, use it to hunt Tarkin. You used to be in Republic Intelligence, this sort of work should come naturally to you." Teller's face settled in grim determination as he nodded.

"And the _Carrion Spike_?"

"Is already a stain on Tarkin's reputation, and after I crash her into Desolation Station, the name will live in infamy." Kenobi smiled softly as Teller considered this, nodded, and left without another word, just as the ship reverted to real space, the sound of the engines louder than they should be as they complained about the abuse they had endured. He checked the scanners, and the _Umbra_ blinked into existence, requesting permission to dock with the _Carrion Spike_ , which Kenobi quickly granted as he entered his new directions into the ship's computer. As soon as the _Umbra_ disconnected, the _Carrion Spike_ would be flying full speed right into Desolation Station, and with any luck, there wouldn't be anything around that could stop it in time. Even with damaged engines, the ship was a fast one, and their time in hyperspace had recharged the shields enough to make it at least moderately durable again.

As he got up from the pilot's seat, he saw a shuttle pass by the viewport right before it jumped to hyperspace. Like Syndulla, Teller was a fool, a short-sighted idiot driven by vengeance that lacked the sense for patience. A man like that would only damage his cause, but a man like that was also a dead one. Kenobi knew how Teller would end. Tarkin was, at the heart of him, a hunter, an exceptionally clever predator that killed would-be hunters like Teller for sport. Kenobi would have no doubt that even without knowledge of Teller's assassination ploy, this entire event would keep Tarkin on edge for a little while, and as such, he would certainly know he was being tracked. He may even make a game of it, lure the unsuspecting rebel into his territory so he could finish him off on his own terms. Tarkin was in no danger, and if Teller happened to succeed, so much the better. But he wouldn't.

Tarkin was a clever man, and discovering Teller would almost certainly bring him to investigate for further rebels, which would, without question, lead him right to Vice Admiral Dodd Rancit, a high ranking member of the Imperial Navy, and finding traitors that high up the chain of command would do nothing but good things for Palpatine's increasing paranoia. After all, the future members of the Inquisitorius had to be purged, there was now an Imperial sex scandal that was no doubt spreading like wildfire on the holonet, and just last year, the Imperial Palace had _mysteriously_ been broken into, and seven Sith holocrons had _mysteriously_ disappeared. It was so strange how these things happened.

Obi-Wan hadn't yet had the time to study them all in great detail, but holocrons he had lusted after for _years_ were among them, including holocrons made by the likes of Darth Revan and Darth Bane and one other made by Darth Vitiate, the Sith Emperor Valkorion himself, which brought his total of holocrons made by that particular Sith Lord up to three. He knew Sidious had a great more holocrons than the ones that had... _disappeared_ , but Obi-Wan only ended up having a few hours to run through the Palace. Not all the holocrons called to him, after all. Still no Nihilus, though, but he had time.

Kenobi breathed deep as he entered the _Umbra_ , a smile on his face when he saw Cody dropping immediately when Anora turn on him and demand, "Why would you let Teller go?!"

"Am I his Master?" Obi-Wan asked casually, and the woman sputtered, flushed, and looked embarrassed for asking such a thing. "Your friend's a leader, and I asked him to follow. He chose instead his own path." She bit her lip, nodded, and stepped out of the way, allowing Obi-Wan and the Mandalorian to pass by and stride toward the cockpit.

Reaching over for the controls, Obi-Wan quickly disengaged from the _Carrion Spike_ , engaged the stealth drive, and watched as the long ship turned, engines blazing and trailing smoke as it shot forward, quickly disappearing into space as it hit top speeds toward Desolation Station. It would hit its mark. He knew it would. Quickly entering in the coordinates for Alderaan into the navicomputer, the _Umbra_ 's engines seemed to purr beneath him, so responsive and familiar to his commands when compared to the similar but entirely foreign ship he had commandeered that morning. A moment later and the familiar blue and white of hyperspace filled th viewport, and Cody and Kenobi left the cockpit and let the ship carry them.

"We still got time?" Obi-Wan asked as they slowly made their way down into the hold, and Cody quickly checked the time setting on the comlink on his wrist and made a face.

"Cutting it a bit close, but..." The clone smiled. "Yeah. We've got time."

"You know..." Kenobi drawled as he touched his hand to the wall controls, the doors to the hold hissing open. "Stealing a ship, starting an Imperial sex scandal, recruiting rebel specialists, ruining high priority supply lines, destroying an Imperial hyperdrive research facility, and convincing a man to commit suicide isn't such a bad start to an Empire Day."

Cody grinned. "And we haven't even seen your kids yet."

"Which is really the best part of the day." They approached the large shipping crate in the room, the cargo from the convoy that Cody had taken from the third attack run on the supply lines, and Obi-Wan could almost feel himself drawn to it, like it was calling to him.

"I don't know what it is," Cody said softly, pushing off the lid, which landed with a heavy metallic thud upon the ground. "You're the expert in the weird stuff. I can't figure out why the Empire would want rocks."

Obi-Wan looked into the crate, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't feel his heart beat or his blood rush as he stared inside the huge crate filled to the brim with clear crystals that looked like ice, ranging from completely transparent to shades of the palest blue, from as small as a fingernail to as big as a fist. _Thousands_ of them. He carefully reached out and ran his fingers delicately, almost reverently through them, shivering as he touched them, as they softly chimed as they moved against each other. They appeared dull now, but Obi-Wan knew that to the right eyes, they would shine, bright and brilliant, to the right ears, they would sing, pure and melodic. But even to him, even under his corrupted touch, he could hear them humming, the prelude to a song that was so close to being lost.

"These aren't rocks," Obi-Wan said, his voice barely a whisper. "These are _kyber crystals_."

"Kyber crystals?" Cody asked, looking into the crate and quickly taking his hand away from the edge when he saw how close his fingers were to touching the delicate things. "The things that power lightsabers?" Kenobi slowly nodded. "What would the Empire want with those?"

"I don't know, but it isn't good..." He closed his eyes and felt the crystals with the Force, felt them hum and vibrate under his touch, and wondered if Luke or Leia may find a crystal meant for them among the thousands present. "I'll need to bring these to Yoda, he nay understand better than me. Kyber crystals are sources of great power, and if the Empire is harvesting them in quantities far beyond even this..."

"Sounds like we _really_ need to know what they're building on Geonosis," Cody said, and Kenobi nodded.

"I couldn't agree more, brother."

But that could be done later. He had a birthday party to get to.


	7. Family History - 12 BBY

"Your father," Obi-Wan said, "is a galactic _asshole_."

Cody could barely contain his laughter, snorting as he clamped his hands over his mouth and shut his eyes tight when glowing gold peered at him through the dying light. The twins sat huddled together in front of a fire, their eyes wide and their attention rapt as they looked at the Sith Lord. At seven, Obi-Wan had deemed his children old enough to venture out of one of the several safe houses he kept throughout the galaxy, skilled enough with their lightsabers to protect themselves from lesser threats, and strong enough in the Force to ward away most anything that would wish harm upon them. They wouldn't _need_ to, of course, the children were never out of their watchful father's sight, but they _could_ , so Obi-Wan decided it was time to embark on a new stage in their lives.

Family camping trips.

When the idea was proposed to them several months ago, both Luke and Leia, independent of each other, had packed their bags with everything they thought they could possibly need on this dangerous survival trip with their beloved father, and in their time away from Obi-Wan and each other, they had begun practicing for the adventure that would be coming. They had been uncontrollable after that. After Leia had inadvertently used flintstone to set fire to Bail's inexorably expensive Corellian rug, and Luke had stabbed not one but _three_ of Owen's droids with the survival knife he stolen from the kitchen, the families were ready to throw them into the arms of their father so the usually well-behaved twins could work out their excitement somewhere that wasn't in the livingroom.

After a group of Kaminoan cloners went rogue and began growing a clone army to combat the Imperial stormtroopers, Obi-Wan had rushed in with Cody and Boba Fett to save not just the cloners, but the battle ready young clones as well before Palpatine sent the 501st Legion to quell the uprising. It hadn't gone as planned. The Empire got wind of the rebellion at the same time as Kenobi, it seemed, and the Empire arrived not long after Obi-Wan. The 501st Legion, led by Darth Vader himself, had taken the planet like a storm, and with the threat of overwhelming odds upon them, Kenobi was forced to abandon the clones and the Kaminoans to their fate. He couldn't win them all, and it was a risk e couldn't take, not when Cody and Boba Fett were in danger. It had taken a great deal of spectacle provided by Obi-Wan to draw their attention away from the planet long enough to get the clone and his son to safety, but that particular loss hurt _badly_.

Obi-Wan wasn't so fortunate. Relentless and tireless, Darth Vader had chased Lumis across the galaxy for the better part of a week nearly without end before Kenobi had been able to give him and the rest of the Empire the slip. He had flown around for another two weeks after that just to make certain he had disappeared, all his time spent researching worlds to bring the kids to on their trip, and when all was clear, he met up with Cody and returned to save the suffering families from his rambunctious children.

For their first adventure, Obi-Wan had selected Corstris, a forest planet in the Quelii sector of the Outer Rim, not so terribly far from the Mandalore Sector. Corstris was extremely remote and completely unpopulated, and the little planet had yet to attract any kind of attention from _anyone_ , Imperial or otherwise, which made it ideal, not just for his family survival training and wilderness exploration, as the twins so aptly called it, but as a potential future base of operations for Bail's growing rebel movement. They wouldn't stay small and innocuous forever. One day, they were going to need a planet. Or two. Or _many_. Best to start scouting now.

It was the first night, and the twins saw this as the right moment to start asking questions.

"He was a Jedi once," Obi-Wan said, starting again after what he considered to be a failed first attempt at addressing the issue of their father. It came up _never_ , and though Obi-Wan had prepared everyone for the questions years ago, he realized that he hadn't really been prepared himself to approach what he still considered a sore, difficult subject with children. "A very powerful one, one with a lot of potential. I suppose he must have been a good man once, because your mother loved him very, _very_ much." Leia's eyes seemed to light up, a bright smile on her face, but Luke just pouted, his eyes drifting over to Yoda, Grandmaster of the Rancors, as he lay snoring at the edge of the camp, his mere presence enough to keep any wildlife, dangerous or otherwise, away from the family.

"Was mom very brave?" Leia asked, quickly scrambling to sit in Obi-Wan's lap, and Luke followed, dragging his feet and snuggled in next to his sister against his father's strong chest.

"Brave, yes..." Obi-Wan said softly, his voice pained and distant as that old wound reopened. "More than you know." He ruffled Luke's hair. "Doing alright, son?"

"Yeah..." the boy sighed heavily. "But I wasn't asking about _that_ father, I was asking about _you_." Leia gasped and turned her mother's bright brown eyes on Kenobi.

"You weren't talking about _you_?!"

"W-well..." He ran a hand through his hair and growled softly. "Luke, when you said you wanted to hear about _father_..."

"I was talking to Leia!" he said defensively. "About _you_!"

He bit his lip and looked away. The twins had a...complicated upbringing, to say the least. They knew the basics of it all, of course. Their father was Anakin Skywalker, now the Sith Lord Darth Vader. Their mother was Padmé Amidala, her life taken in exchange for the safety of her children. Their adoptive father was Obi-Wan Kenobi, and he took them in because of a promise, because the Force had taken his hand and guided him to them, because he had loved them the moment his presence had reached out and touched theirs. They knew a little about Satine and the brother they never had, they knew a bit about the Jedi and the Sith and the war they waged, the war they _still_ waged, but between their studies of the Force and their excitement at getting to be with their father, they never really asked too many questions about where they came from.

Until now. Now, they had time. Now, they were on _survival vacation._

It was a problem that he hadn't considered. His story and Vader's were very closely linked, and Padmé had been closely tied to both of them, and it was a story that, long ago, Obi-Wan had decided his children needed to know about as soon as they asked, as soon as they were old enough. After all, what had happened between him and Anakin Skywalker not only shaped the lives of his twins, but changed the shape of the galaxy. It was a story filled with anger and hate, betrayal and blood, murder and genocide, darkness and corruption, sex and infidelity, insanity and unspeakable pain. How did someone take that story and make it appropriate for a seven year old?

"To talk about me," Obi-Wan said slowly, "I have to talk about your mother. _And_ your other father." A pleased, curious grin finally crossed Luke's face, his blue eyes lighting up.

"And Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon?"

"He's in the story too, yes." Both of the children wriggled excitedly, slipping to sit on either side of him and nestling next to him just under his arms, their wide eyes looking expectantly at him, and Obi-Wan felt his face flush and his pulse begin to race. He was... _nervous_. He'd never been ashamed of what he'd done, what he had become, but he was worried about how his children would judge him. What had Bail Organa told Leia about Padmé already? Did he condemn the Sith Lord for his roll in her death, did he tell her that she had been used and abducted when the truth was far from that? And what had Owen told Luke about Anakin Skywalker? Did he talk his brother up like the hero he could have been? Did he blame Obi-Wan entirely for what he had become when the Dark Side was a fair bit more complicated than that? And what had _Yoda_ told them? What did Qui-Gon have to say about his fallen students? The twins seemed to sense his doubts, and without a word, they took Kenobi's hands in theirs, and Obi-Wan felt the warmth of their presence, comforting and reassuring, fill him. It would be alright.

"I was once a Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan said softly, and the kids held their breath in anticipation. They knew this part of the story. They knew he had left the Jedi when he fell to the Dark Side. But they didn't know _why_.

"Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon was your teacher," Leia said, nodding her head sagely.

"Yes, that's right. He was my Master for over ten years." Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, weighing his words carefully and trying to think how best to explain in a moment a painful fall to the Dark Side that had been years in the making. "When Qui-Gon found your father, Skywalker, he could feel how strong he was in the Force. A vergence, a living nexus, something very, very rare...it was too much to pass up. He brought him back with us to the Jedi Temple so he could be trained. A person that strong in the Force without proper training could be a very serious danger."

"Like he is now," Leia said swiftly.

"Like you," Luke whispered, his hand tightening in Obi-Wan's grasp, and the Sith Lord nodded.

"We are dangerous, yes, but not for lack of training." He drew circles on the back of their hands with his thumb as he thought. "My training was not yet complete. I was still...brash. Uncertain. And on that mission, I felt the Dark Side, and it frightened me. I didn't know what to do, and nobody else seemed to sense what I did, so nobody could really help me. And when we presented Anakin to the Council, they refused to train him." A small, pained smile graced his lips. "Too old, they said. He was already too attached, too filled with fear. The Jedi life isn't an easy one, and beyond a certain age, the training was rarely successful."

"Why?" the kids asked in unison.

"The Jedi Order was built on a policy of non-attachment, a thing that goes against the nature of living beings," he quickly explained. "In the absence of emotion, there is peace and clarity, and the will of the Force can be heard without fear to cloud it." He shrugged. "The Jedi were wrong, of course, and as they became peacekeepers of the Republic, they ignored the will of the Force to serve the whims of corrupt and greedy politicians that served in the Galactic Senate." He drew the kids closer to him when a light breeze blew through the trees around them. "In the absence of conflict, the Jedi became stagnant, they stopped growing, and they became shells of what they used to be. The Jedi were wrong. And now the Jedi are dead."

"Is that why you left?" Leia asked after a moment of silence, the little girl softly tugging on his hand as if to move him back on track. Luke may have been content to contemplate the Force, the Jedi, and their relationship with it, but little Leia had always been more about people. Obi-Wan suspected she knew a great deal more than she let on, and her questioning now was only about learning his side of events.

"...yes and no," Kenobi said. "I left for many reasons, but at the heart of it, the Jedi had abandoned me when I needed it most." Luke wrinkled his nose.

"The Jedi wouldn't do that," the boy insisted. Uncle Yoda said the Jedi were like family."

"No, it's true, they were," Obi-Wan said, backtracking slightly. "Among the Jedi, I was always surrounded by hundreds of brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers. As a Jedi, one was never truly alone." He stopped for a moment when his chest tightened with anger, deep and cold, and beside him, the twins shivered. "But families can go wrong, and when we returned with Skywalker and stood before the Council, I had to stand by and listen as Qui-Gon, the Jedi that was a father to me more than any other, threw me aside so he could train Anakin when the Council refused him."

"Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon did that?" Leia asked, her eyes wide. Luke was just stunned.

"He did," Obi-Wan said slowly. Even now, despite their reconciliation, the truth of what happened still hurt. He had no malice toward Qui-Gon now, and it brought him no pleasure to besmirch him in front of his children, but what's done was done. "He thought Anakin too important to turn away because of an arbitrary rule like that. He thought an exception should be made, and when they refused still, Qui-Gon said _he'd_ train Skywalker, and since he was already training me, he would let me go to take Skywalker as his Padawan."

The children said nothing. They were hurt, and could feel the hurt within their father, and all they could do was clutch his hand tighter. It was going to be a difficult night, but an important one.

"He said I was ready for Knighthood," he quietly explained. "He said there was nothing more he could teach me. And maybe he believed that, but I knew I wasn't ready. I told him I wasn't ready. I felt darkness, _real_ darkness, cold and hard and without mercy, and my Master threw me away for a younger, more powerful student. It was...betrayal, and when it mattered most, the wisest Masters of the Jedi Order couldn't see the darkness growing inside of me."

"Did it hurt?" Luke asked softly, laying his hand over his father's heart, and Kenobi smiled, a sad, pained thing.

"Yes, it did. It started me on my path. It made it so much easier to reach out and grab the Dark Side when I needed it. It made it easy to go back and keep doing it." He reached between himself and Luke and grabbed the lightsaber off his belt, turned the power to its lowest setting, and switched it on, the blood red blade extending with a hiss and thrumming in the air, adding its sound to the noises of the wildlife within the forest. Leia reached out and reverently touched the hilt.

"That's why you left?" The Sith Lord nodded.

"The Dark Side opened my eyes to the weakness and the failure of the Jedi and their Republic. It opened me up to the Code of the Sith, and in the end, I fell for power. Power to change the corrupt Republic. The power to prove to my Master that I was worth keeping. The power to destroy the Sith."

Luke gasped, his wide eyes staring back and forth between his father and the red blade in his hand. " _You_ were going to kill the Sith?"

"That was my mission. It started when I killed a Sith Lord to save Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan smiled softly. "Sithkiller, they called me, though I embraced the Dark Side to win that fight, and the Council knighted me for it." He handed the red blade to Leia, the little girl holding it with reverent wonder, and he drew and adjusted his other lightsaber, the blue blade humming as he handed it to the equally impressed Luke. "My foundations of being a Jedi Knight were corrupted from the start. And as I continued my mission to find the Sith Master, I began to realize that the Sith were right. Joining them didn't come easily, but when I did, I fell very hard."

"And now you're fighting the Sith again, right, father?" Luke asked, a bright smile on his face illuminated by the glow of the Jedi weapon.

"Mm, fighting the ones that are fighting the will of the Force, yes."

"Like our other father," Leia said, her face suddenly serious and solemn, and both she and her brother shivered. Obi-Wan powered off both lightsabers, but allowed the twins to continue to hold the matching hilts as he pulled the little things close, and he could feel their presences' in the Force tremble in fear, a residual reminder of the terror they had endured when they still lay hidden within their mother.

"Like Darth Vader, yes," Obi-Wan said softly. "But mostly, we fight against Darth Sidious, Emperor Palpatine. He's the one responsible for all of this."

"You can do it!" Luke cried excitedly, his hand gripping Obi-Wan's robes for emphasis. "You killed a Sith before to save Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon!"

"Well..." Obi-Wan mused, leaning back and looking at the fire, the two children moving to sit before him, hugging their knees to their chest. "I thought I killed him. I did defeat him, though, and I did save Qui-Gon from death at his hand. That's the mission I met your mother," he added, almost as an afterthought, and Leia's eyes lit up, her face erupting in a broad, happy smile, the Sith lightsaber clutched tightly to her chest.

"And you fell in love!" she sighed wistfully, and Luke wrinkled his nose.

"Not then, no," Kenobi said, smiling at the twins as they both scooted closer, Leia eagerly, and Luke very, very slowly, trying to hide his interest. "At the time, I was committed to the Jedi, and love was forbidden to us, though it still did happen. And...my heart was still held by Satine." The twins gasped, and without looking, reached out and took each other's hands. Their father _never_ spoke of the woman who was the mother of their absent brother, the Sith Lord's first child that died the day Mandalore burned. They knew everything about it, because they _felt_ everything about it, could sense the place within their father that belonged to another child and was now filled with them. They had always known, even though Obi-Wan had fallen silent and sad when they had asked about their brother, the pain so intense that the twins never asked again. Though he never told them, Luke and Leia knew they were raised with their father's dead love and child in mind, the hands of his Mandalorian Queen guiding the way he stepped into fatherhood.

They did ask the Force spirit Qui-Gon, though, and the ever-present ghost had explained the nature of their father's pain in quiet, simple terms, that he had loved another child he never met, deeply loved the woman he fathered the child with, and had lost them both in an instant. Luke and Leia didn't quite understand the void left behind. Their own mother was dead as well, but when they thought of her, they filled with warmth, the place for her in their hearts bright and filled with love, their mother's touch present even though she wasn't. There father wasn't like that. The darkness within him took that light and consumed it, turning warmth and love into cold and pain. But not with them. Their bond was close, an unbreakable golden light between them that pushed the oppressive darkness within their father away, his pain eased by four small but strong hands, comforting and protective.

Just as he had done for them for as long as they could remember. Before they even _could_ remember.

"Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon said you met on Mandalore," Luke quietly ventured, putting a hand on his father's knee when the golden eyes drew distant, as if he would simply vanish if the child didn't hang on.

"I was sixteen," the Sith said, a faint smile on his lips. "She was so... _difficult_. So passionate. And so, _so_ beautiful. Loving her came very easy, I never stopped. Now amount of repeating the Jedi Code could drive her from me, and when I fell, without the Jedi to stop to me, I rushed to her." His smile brightened. "Even now, I-" He stopped suddenly, the lump in his throat preventing him from continuing as the golden eyes sharpened and snapped back to the present. Obi-Wan looked at the twins sitting before him and cleared his throat. "I was her Jedi protector once, just as I was for your mother. That's when we met, on Naboo years and years ago, back when she ruled as Queen of the planet."

"Wait a minute!" Luke said swiftly, his eyes wide with panic. "You mean Leia's not just a princess for pretend, she's a princess for _real_?" The little girl smiled in a superior way and leaned in toward her brother.

"I _told_ you, Luke..." The boy crossed his arms and pouted for a moment, but couldn't keep the smile from the corners of his mouth. "But if you were in love already, father," Leia asked, "then how did you get together with mother?"

"It was _after_ , Leia," Luke whispered, tugging on his sister's sleeve, his face drawn and concerned as he carefully watched his father out of the corner of his eye.

It was where the story became complicated. It was where Sidious got involved. Obi-Wan frowned and looked the children over. He knew Leia knew a great deal about her mother from Bail, and Luke knew about his father from Owen, but neither of those men really knew what had happened between the three of them. Qui-Gon hadn't touched the subject with them either out of respect for Obi-Wan, knowing that the Sith Lord had wanted to take it upon himself to explain his part in the mess that had landed them where they were, wanted the twins to be as free from bias as possible so that they may judge him not with the opinions of their caretakers, but with conclusions they had reached themselves. Kenobi had thought long and hard about how to tell them this, and now that the time had come, he wasn't close to ready.

"Before I met her, Darth Sidious had his eyes on her," he said softly. "He was Naboo's Senator, and she was Naboo's Queen. As part of his plan to put himself front and center in galactic politics, he orchestrated an attack on his world, and he had used your mother and the trust she had in him to get the Senate's Chancellor out of power, and get himself voted in. Senator Palpatine became Chancellor Palpatine, and your mother was an important part in that."

"So..." Luke said, shifting closer and clutching the lightsaber in his hands. "It's mommy's fault that we have an Emperor?"

"No, son, it isn't." Gold eyes looked quickly to Leia, her face drawn in concentration as she chewed on her lip. Being close to Bail gave her an understanding of politics and a keen interest in them, an inclination that the much more reserved Luke lacked. "Darth Sidious began manipulating her very early on. No matter what she did, she would have been helping Palpatine's plans. He made sure every outcome worked to his advantage."

"Except for you, right?" Luke asked, hopeful, but quickly realized that this story wasn't a happy one.

"I was not a part of his plans, no. Not until I brought myself to his attention as I began falling to the Dark Side. Skywalker, though..." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, could feel the interest and fear of the twins as they focused all their attention on him. Their father, a man that still lived, a man that had once been a Jedi, a man that fell so quickly, enslaved to Sidious for _many_ reasons, a man that may have been destined to walk this path no matter what Obi-Wan had done.

"Anakin Skywalker caught Qui-Gon's attention the moment he set eyes on him as a child," Kenobi carefully explained. "Darth Sidious was no different. He saw Skywalker's potential, felt his strength, and from the moment he saw him, he began making plans to bring him to the Sith, and he used your mother and me to do it." The children were silent. Neither of them knew anything about this, and there was no good, easy place to start.

"I was the first man your mother loved," Kenobi said quickly. "This was something Sidious used to his advantage when setting up Skywalker's fall, and...something I used to my advantage as well. Your mother was an influential woman in the Senate, one that was a problem for Sidious, and by manipulating her emotions, I was able to help weaken her position and place her in Palpatine's hands." Kenobi smiled ruefully. "I just didn't know _how_ I was helping him. I thought what I was doing was political. I didn't know he was using her to set up Skywalker's fall to the Dark Side."

"Mother was always so sad," Leia said softly. "And brave and confused. I remember she hurt a lot."

"You can't remember, Leia, she died right after we were born!" Luke insisted, looking at the Sith Lord for confirmation. Leia crossed her arms petulantly.

"Well I _do_ remember, Luke! She was kind and warm beautiful and sad and _scared_ , but she always did what was right!"

"Luke," Obi-Wan said softly, "Prince Organa was very close to your mother. I'm sure he's told your sister a great deal about her."

"No!" The little girl stood, her eyes wide and desperate and pleading, her lip between her teeth as she struggled to express herself, the lightsaber clutched tightly in her hands. "I mean, _yes_ , we talk about mother, but...but I _remember_." She seemed to grow more desperate, almost to the point of tears when the glowing gold looked back at her with confusion. Her father _didn't understand_. "I see her, father! In my mind! And I have _feelings_ when...when..." She stopped when Kenobi gasped, the gold of his eyes catching fire and glowing brilliantly in the dark. The Force moved in mysterious ways, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that Leia was telling the truth. Unlike her brother, she _did_ remember Padmé, though not through her own memories, but through the memories of others. Through memories left behind in places. In objects.

Leia was like _Quinlan_.

Obi-Wan slowly reached out and gently took his lightsaber from her grip.

The twins instantly felt the change in their father, their conflict immediately forgotten as they scrambled into his arms, pushing past pain and darkness to reach the wound inside him. They didn't understand why, but they knew they needed to help. "I'm sorry, father," Leia said quickly.

"We don't need to talk about mother!" Luke quickly added. "I didn't want to talk about her anyway!" The Sith Lord held them tightly, his presence cold as it surrounded them, powerful and protective, and dangerous to anyone that would threaten his children. He was dark, violent and corrupted, but Luke and Leia never felt anything but safe with the Sith Lord they called father.

With a small, sad smile, Kenobi kissed each child on the cheek. "Would you like to stop?" The moment of hesitation was all he need to smile and continue. "Padmé fell in love with Skywalker. On her own or at the behest of Darth Sidious, I don't know, but it doesn't matter _how_ it happened because the feeling was real. They were in love. Very, _very_ deeply, from what I understand."

"Mother and Darth Vader?" Luke whispered in disbelief, and Obi-Wan shook his head.

"He wasn't Vader, not then. Back then, he was just Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, Force nexus and bitter enemy of mine."

"Did you always hate him?" Leia asked, and Luke gasped.

"Oh! Because of what happened with Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon!"

"Yes, that's right." Obi-Wan took back his other Lightsaber when Luke handed it to him. "The Jedi thought I was dead for a long time, and when they found out I wasn't dead, but Sith, they began training Skywalker to stand against me. I don't know if he ever hated me, but because of how powerful he was, and because I had already beaten _many_ of the Jedi's most powerful Masters, they came to believe that he'd be the one to defeat me." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the children. "...then Satine died, and everything changed."

The twins were silent, expectant, reaching through the Force to lightly touch at him, and Kenobi felt himself shiver. It wasn't a good feeling. Within moments, his children could turn against him, judge him for the monster he had become. But he had promised to be honest with them. They deserved the truth. It may hurt, but it would keep them safe.

"We had always been seen as opposites in the Force," he quietly explained. "Counterpoints. Vergences of light and dark, with the victor of our conflict determining which path the Force would flow down. And when she died, I..." He paused to clear his throat. "I took that to heart. If I was burning, Skywalker must as well. My lover was dead, and it was only right that he lose his as well." Slowly, the twins' eyes widened, first with understanding, than in horror.

"Is that why you killed mother?" Leia whispered, her voice thin and quivering.

"No!" Obi-Wan said, fast and louder than he had intended. "No, no, I killed her because...I-I did it for..." He growled, deep and feral, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he ran his hand through his hair. "No," Kenobi finally said, "that wasn't why. I never wanted to kill your mother. I wanted Skywalker to _suffer_. I wanted him to feel the burning rage that lived inside me, I wanted to take _everything_ from him, and the way I saw it, the only thing he had that he cared for was your mother." Kenobi gently put the twins on the ground in front of the fire and scooted back, butting some distance between them. It felt wrong to touch them when discussing this. "I'm not a good man, kids," the Sith Lord whispered. "I haven't been a good man in a _very_ long time. Maybe I never was."

"This is why Vader hates you," Luke said, so serious and so sincere it almost hurt.

"Yes, I suspect so."

"This is why he hated _us_ ,"the boy whimpered, tears in his eyes an he turned away from the Sith Lord to face the fire, his knees drawn to his chest as he shook, and Kenobi felt the air sucked from his lungs as Luke's presence swiftly disappeared from within him, the warmth and comfort of his hands gone and replaced by the pain in the space he left. He wanted to offer an explanation, but how did one explain insanity to a seven year old? How did one explain _any of this_ to a child? They needed to know, and the longer he waited, the harder it would be. It had to be now, but Obi-Wan wasn't prepared to face the judgement of his son.

He hardly noticed when Leia laid her hand over his, watching instead as Cody rose from his place near the rancor and came to sit beside the crying child, the boy tightly grabbing hold of the clone and pressing his face against his armor. "Did you take her from him?" Leia asked quietly, and Kenobi nodded.

"I did...in a way. I didn't make her love me, she was still deeply in love with Skywalker, but it was...not difficult for me to get close to her."

"...because of Darth Sidious," Leia quietly ventured, and Obi-Wan saw Luke tense. "To make him fall to the Dark Side, right?"

"...yes, that's right." Leia scooted closer, her hands gripping his robes, and she smiled, soft but sad. "I...felt his presence inside her. It was small, but so, so deep, controlling not her thoughts, but her emotions. A perfect way to manipulate her actions by flooding her with intense emotion whenever he desired." Kenobi closed his eyes and tried not to see her mother in Leia's face. "I broke Sidious' control over her, I saw within her mind, her memories, and I watched as Skywalker wrapped his hands around his neck and tried to squeeze the life out of her for her infidelity, for what she and I did. And...I promised to protect her." He kept his eyes closed, even when he heard Leia sniffle and crawl into his lap.

"Daddy?" the girl softly asked, rubbing her hands over her eyes and waiting for the Sith Lord to look at her. "I think it was good of you to protect mommy."

"She wouldn't have needed protecting if it wasn't for me, sweetie." Obi-Wan held her close, felt the warmth of her presence, and held on to it. Luke's presence quietly crept back within him, hesitant at first, but quickly overcoming his reluctance and pushing forward, assertive and so much stronger than before, and the Sith Lord felt his son's hand, wet with tears, lay on his arm and pry his grip open so he could wriggle in next to his sister. He stared at Kenobi, his face hard and serious.

"I think," he strongly declared, "that maybe even bad people have good in them." His eyes met the glowing Sith gold, and he bit his lip and nodded. "But I don't think you're bad, father. I think you've done a lot of bad things, and a lot of wrong things, but I don't think _you're_ bad." Kenobi breathed deeply and held the kids against his chest to keep them from seeing the emotion on his face.

"Your mother got pregnant with you two," Obi-Wan said after a moment, breathing deeply as his pulse slowed to a strong, even beat. The hardest part was over, and both his children were still in his arms. "And shortly after that, Qui-Gon died, and that, it was over for Anakin Skywalker. Qui-Gon was his Master, his father figure, the man that helped him deal with all his problems, and he was a very permissive Master, one that didn't stick strictly to the Jedi teachings, which isolated him from any help he may have gotten from the other Jedi."

"And he became Darth Vader," Leia said softly.

"That's right."

"Didn't he want us?" Luke asked, his voice sad and confused, and Leia took his hand in hers. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, searching through his memories of what had happened in those final few months.

"Your mother and I ended our relationship," he began. "She wanted a chance to raise you with her husband. She wanted to do the right thing for you two. But Vader didn't believe you were his children, even when he had tests to prove it. And when he _did_ believe it, he thought just being near me had somehow... _corrupted_ you." In his arms, the twins began shivering, and he could feel their presence grow small, withdrawn, hiding within the folds of the Force, just as they had done within Padmé when she had been her most fearful. "He threatened to kill you," Obi-Wan whispered. "If there was any sign at all that you had somehow been touched by me, he would have taken you from your mother, killed you, and tried again. The next time I saw your mother, she told me everything, and I promised to raise you like my own."

"...that's why mommy left to be with you," Leia squeaked, seeming so much smaller than her powerful personality made her usually appear. "You saved her. You saved _us_."

"I'm sorry," Luke whimpered, his hands balling into the Sith's black robes. "I didn't mean it before, father, it wasn't your fault!"

"Hush now, Luke," Obi-Wan said gently, placing the twins on the ground next to him, the two children gripping his hands tightly. "Your instincts weren't wrong. I am at least partially to blame for this, but Skywalker _never_ hated you. He hated _me_. So much that he would see every trace of me wiped from the galaxy." Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed as his pulse spiked, the Dark Side holding him in its grasp. "He went to the planet I was born on and killed my parents. He threatened to kill you if he saw even the slightest hint of me within you. He slaughtered the Jedi in their Temple because he thought I had corrupted them. He... _murdered_ my best friend, a man that he had _respected_ just because his death would hurt me."

"But you didn't kill him!" Luke cried. "You fought and you _didn't kill him_."

"No, I didn't kill him!" Kenobi snapped, a low, dangerous snarl in his voice that carried the weight of the Dark Side as it rose within him, and Cody quickly came to kneel before the family, the twins quickly scrambling to move next to the clone. "Death was too good for Darth Vader, and I wanted him to _suffer_!"

" _Obi-Wan_!" Furious golden eyes snapped to the man that spoke, his rage blazing as he looked at the cold, stern face of Cody, and Kenobi quickly let go of his anger. "They're _seven_ , my Lord," the clone said, gentler this time. "I think they can wait a few years to hear what happened on Mustafar."

"Aww..." both twins cried, but knew better than to press the issue. When Cody put his foot down, their father always listened. The Sith Lord smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, kids," he said apologetically. "The mean clone says no." He smiled when the children pouted. "You know the rest of the story anyway. Your mother had you, and...here we are."

"And you killed her," Leia said, the two children looking at the Sith Lord like they needed an explanation, and Kenobi felt guilt rush through him. He couldn't have saved her, he knew, but it hurt all the same, so much so that he still saw her sometimes when he closed his eyes, and he couldn't help but wonder if somehow, she knew that she would meet her end on her lover's blade.

"Yes, I did." He didn't elaborate. Her death didn't deserve excuses.

"Did she love you?" Luke asked, quiet and thoughtful like he usually was.

"...I don't know," Obi-Wan said, his mind racing as he wondered. "If she did, she never said it. _I_ never said it."

"But you _did_ love her, right?!" Leia asked, excited and hopeful, and Obi-Wan felt his heart ache.

"I'm...not sure," the Sith quietly confessed. "There was so much pain then. So much hatred and anger within me I thought I'd be consumed. My Satine has always held my heart, and I swore I'd never love again. I never will, but..." He smiled softly. "I don't know. Perhaps, a part of me did love your mother."

They were quiet for a moment, though the air around them was not, alive with the buzzing call of insects, the howling of predators deep in the forest, the call of birds within the trees, the crackling of the fire, and the soft growls of the rancor. Obi-Wan watched as the twins carefully took each other's hand, quietly conferring within the Force with each other on all they had heard.

"Father," Leia said, her little voice firm and strong and commanding. "I think I understand now why you killed mother."

"We always knew you did," Luke said, his voice softer than his sister, but no less forceful. "But we never really knew why. It was...confusing without knowing all of this."

"You did it to protect us." Leia smiled, a sad, understanding little thing. "Vader doesn't know about us because she's dead, so he never came looking for us like he said he would."

"I would have liked to know her," Luke said softly, his toe digging into the ground. "But I think if she knew that giving her life would make us safe, she'd do it." He smiled at the Sith Lord. "When I think about her, I feel...warm. Like she's protecting us. Like I feel when I'm around you."

Obi-Wan looked at the twins, their eyes wide and loving, shy smiles on their lips that barely contained both sadness and joy, and the Sith Lord felt his chest tighten as his vision began to swim. "Damn it," he growled, looking away from the kids and running a hand over his face. "The Sith don't prepare you for this sort of thing..." he muttered. "The light is _too_ intense, this is _not_ what I fought for..." Laughing, the twins rushed and threw their arms around their father, giggling as they buried their faces into the folds of his robes when he knelt to hold them close.

"I know there aren't any Jedi anymore," Luke said softly, "but do you think _I_ can learn to be a Jedi Knight? Like you were?"

"A better one than me, I hope..." He ruffled the boy's hair. "You won't be a Jedi. But you _will_ be something new. Something different. Something of your own choosing. You just need to trust in the Force to guide you down the right path."

"I don't want to be a Jedi," Leia drawled proudly. " _I_ want to be a Sith Lord! Like you, father!"

"It's a hard path, Leia. A painful one. And...you're a little young to be thinking of darkness." She wrinkled her nose, something she did whenever she didn't get her way, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile. "So...are we good?" he asked, a bit hesitant and considerably worried. "I know it's a lot to think about, and if you don't want to stay with me because of all I've done, I'll... _understand_. I can take you back to your caretakers and I'll never come back." The twins fell silent, seeming to consider this, and together, they shook their heads.

"Cuun kar'ta cuyir ti gar, buir," Leia said smoothly. "I like being Mandalorian, and I like being a Kenobi."

"Aliit ori'shya tal'din," Luke said softly. "You adopted us, and...w-well, our other father killed your friend..." He shivered, looking away from the Sith Lord for a moment before looking back and smiling. "If you can still love us after that, well...we can adopt you too."

"You're the only father I want," Leia added, a mischievous look on her face. "But...I _can_ still be a princess, right?"

" _Well_ ," Kenobi drawled, "I _am_ the Shadow King of Mandalore, and a Sith Lord. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you _both_ royalty, and your mother _was_ a Queen." A sly, devious look came across Luke's face, a very rare thing, and he leaned in toward his sister.

"See, Leia?" the boy said, a smooth imitation of the tone his father used when he was trying to get his way with Owen. "I _told_ you that I was a prince." With a cry of outrage, Leia took her training saber from her belt, the soft hiss as it ignited bright blue sounding in the air, and moments later, the camp was filled with peels of laughter as the twins chased each other around, green and blue training blades hacking the air as they jumped up on the rancor and continued the battle upon the sleeping beast's back. Obi-Wan dropped to the ground and sighed wearily, Cody swaggering over to him and plunking down to the ground next to him and handed the Sith a bottle of Corellian brandy.

"That went well," the clone said softly, watching in amusement as Kenobi nearly downed the bottle.

"That was the most difficult thing I have _ever_ done."

"... _nah_."

"No, I mean it!" the Sith hissed. "That was worse than the fight with Vader on Mustafar. That was worse than the first time Sidious took me to train on Mygeeto. That was worse than last year's Krayt Dragon fiasco."

Cody snorted. "Oh please, nothing beats the Krayt Dragons. I almost died! _Twice_! I was hoping for a more dignified death than that, let me tell you, it would have been _embarrassing_. Boba's _still_ ashamed to be seen in public with me." The Sith Lord chuckled softly as he brought the bottle to his lips again, his eyes on the children, now clinging to Yoda's face and working together to pry open one of his closed eyelids. The rancor didn't seem to mind. Cody lay his hand on the Sith's shoulder. "...you did good, Obi-Wan. I know that wasn't easy."

"No, it wasn't," Kenobi said softly. "But I think it was good for our family. We...need to be able to discuss all of this. I don't want them to be surprised by anything, and I don't want anything to get between us."

"...Mand'alor Satine would be proud of you, sir," Cody said softly, watching the Sith smile faintly as the twins curled up to sleep beside the rancor. "Padmé would be too, I think. Her children couldn't ask for better."

"Of course they could..." he whispered, draining the rest of the bottle in his hand as he stood and stretched. "They deserve a galaxy without Sidious. They deserve to live in the Empire I'm going to create when Palpatine is dead. They...deserve to choose their own path, and with the Empire making a mess of _everything_ , they aren't safe enough to walk that road."

"Well...you're going to fix that."

"Yes I am." Obi-Wan walked across the camp, scooped up the kids in his arms and laid them down on the beds they had made, his hands in their hair while they slept. He had been dreading this moment for years, and now, it was over, and he felt stronger for it. There was nothing left that could get between them, and with no lies, no deception, all that was left was trust and an unbreakable bond he could feel deep within him. In the morning, they'd explore the forest, practice their lightsaber combat, deepen their studies of the Force, _anything_ they wanted, be it venturing out in the wilderness, or talking more about their mother, their father, the things _he_ had done. Everything else would be easy.

When the wind blew through the trees, just for a moment, Obi-Wan thought he could hear Padmé's voice, soft and gentle, and it sounded loving, grateful, _hopeful_. The twins would be alright. Their family would be alright. Obi-Wan was never more certain of anything.


	8. New Dawn - 11 BBY

It was shaping up to be a long night, but then, every night was a long night on Gorse. This was just not looking like it was going to be the good kind. Not the kind where the day's wages bought enough alcohol to see him in a stupor upon the cantina floor. Not the kind where a local beautiful girl infatuated with him found her way into his bed. Not the kind where the Empire was kind and benevolent enough to just _not_ show up and ruin everyone's fun. No, this was a night where factories were terrorized by an Imperial cyborg psycho Count, a night where mysterious, beautiful women just fell out of the sky and treated him like he wasn't worth the dirt on her boots, even though he _had_ saved her. A night where crazy conspiracy theorists armed to the teeth with bombs were _actually_ right.. A night where the moon was _literally_ going to blow up, and Kanan Jarrus had _enough_.

He strode across the empty cantina, tables and chairs turned over upon the ground, and made his way behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of the proprietor's hard stuff from under the counter, and sat on the stool, refusing to move as he drank. Gorse, as a planet, _sucked_. Tidally locked because of the gravitational pull of it's huge, nearby moon, Cynda, one half of the Inner Rim world, the _livable_ side, was trapped in perpetual night, while its other side baked in constant daylight in temperatures hot enough to melt droids. To be sure, Gorse was a good place for a person to fall between the cracks, where a person could lose themselves in the monotony of work, where a person could go undistinguished among the miners, the deadbeats and the drunks that wandered the streets of a world in endless night. Which was _exactly_ what Kanan liked about the place.

At twenty two years old, Kanan Jarrus stood over six feet tall with tanned skin, shoulder length brown hair tied back into a ponytail, striking teal eyes, and an air about him that could only be described as roguish. He was a man adrift, prickly and aloof to most, a drifter than never stayed in one place for too long, and was known as something of a gunslinger, a brawler that fought drunk and fought often. He was reckless, impatient and belligerent, a hedonistic pleasure seeker that seemed to roam without a care in the world about anything or anybody, much to the irritation of his current companion, but...

Well, he wasn't thinking about her right now, though his eyes did follow her as she walked across the bar, glaring at him suspiciously as she guided an exhausted Sullustan and a broken, bleeding human _idiot_ across the cantina and through a door in the back that led to small apartments directly above them. Nobody was using them anyway, so they may as well. It had been a long night, and like them, Kanan just wanted it to be over. The sooner they were out of his life, the better, though he would miss the captivating, green skinned Twi'lek. There was something about her, something he couldn't place...beyond how disgustingly gorgeous she was, how smoothly her voice drifted through the air and caressed his ears like _music_. But with her went trouble. _Attention_. The Empire. And where the Empire went, fun died, and Kanan couldn't have that.

It wasn't like Kanan avoided the Empire. When a regime's reach touched the furthest edges of the galaxy, avoiding them was pointless. He just didn't want to be _near_ them, didn't want to attract attention, and that came easily to him. The Empire paid no mind to a drifter, another nameless face among trillions just like him. He just wanted to have some fun, and when the Empire showed up, restrictions tightened, people walked more cautiously, became more _boring_ , and the fun was driven away. Kanan _wasn't_ running from them. He just didn't want to be bored, so every few months, it was time for a new place, a new job, a new cantina with new people, a new girlfriend. A new life, every few months, which suited Kanan just fine, and with no lasting friendships, no close acquaintances, no romantic entanglements, from _his_ end, at least, it was easy to pack up and go.

Kanan had been on Gorse too long as it was. For five months, he had lived among the darkness of the planet, working as a freighter pilot carrying shipments of volatile explosives from Gorse to the thorilide on Cynda, a dangerous job that drew Kanan to it because of the thrill of possible death every time he got in his ship and flew. Also, it paid well, and he was _very_ good at it. But then the Empire came to oversee the mining operations of the valuable crystals. Then a demolitions expert named Skelly, the bloody _idiot_ that had walked past him in the bar minutes ago, had caused a collapse in the mine, the Imperial presence prompting him to take drastic measures to show them that mining the moon wasn't safe. Then something... _happened_ , a thing that Kanan had tried long and hard to forget, had tried to put behind him, a thing from another time, when he was a _different_ man, and all he could do was hope nobody had seen it and pack his few belongings. It was time to go.

That morning, he had been ready to leave Gorse for good. He had packed his things, he had quit his job, and carefully neglected to say goodbye to Okadiah, the owner of the bar that Kanan drank in, lived in, and occasionally bartended in. It was easier that way, _better_ that way, especially since the old man had grown very fond of Kanan, and, in a way, Kanan found he liked him as well, the old man a good landlord simply because of the amount of alcohol he always had on hand, but there was something fatherly about the old bar owner, something that kept Kanan there when he would have otherwise left long ago. Okadiah was like...a father. One that Kanan had never had and never knew he needed until he came to Gorse. But that was done, and he was ready to leave.

Or, that had been the intention. By that afternoon, everything had changed, and Kanan had found himself wrapped up in things _way_ beyond what he had been willing to deal with. Because he was a _sucker_ for a pretty girl, when the Twi'lek beauty he was so captivated with batted her large, green eyes, he had begrudgingly agreed to take her along with him when he went to the company he worked for to tell the boss he quit so she could spy on some Imperial big shot that had traveled to Gorse to restructure the refinement of thorilide for maximum efficiency. _Count Vidian_. Kanan frowned as he drank from the bottle in his hand, his entire being rejecting the very thought of the cruel and callous Imperial. But he hadn't known that at the time, and he agreed to help the Twi'lek, _Hera_ , to infiltrate the facility where Vidian would be conducting his investigation.

It had been a huge mistake. As soon as he arrived, Kanan had been grabbed by an Imperial officer that he _may_ have messed with earlier, and since Hera had his ID badge so she could get into the facility, Kanan instead relying on being known by the company, he was detained for _trespassing_ , the increased security leaving no room for any deviation from protocol. As he said, fun _dead_ , and the officer had been pleased to get her hands on the _mouthy pilot_ from a few days prior. Kanan was none too pleased, but he approached the situation in the same way he _always_ approached Imperials. By being overly happy to see them. He found that the more helpful he was, the more polite, the more friendly he was willing to be, the quicker the stormtroopers and Imperial officers wanted to get rid of him. It was easily the best way to keep the Empire away from him.

But it didn't work that time. That time, everything went to hell before he could get on the woman's nerves. That time, Hera had returned to him to tell him the Count Vidian had murdered Kanan's boss, a good woman, by pushing her into a vat of acid. That time, Skelly the idiot, already a wanted man for his mine collapse stunt on Cynda, had blown up the Count's shuttle when his attempts to personally warn Vidian about the dangers of mining the moon had gone south. That time, Kanan had been shot at by stormtroopers, Imperial officers, called in _TIE Fighters_ when he, Hera, and Skelly had fled the scene in a hoverbus that had been an antique back in the Old Republic. And now, _finally_ , they had escaped, and Kanan brought them all back to the bar he called home, unsure where to go or what to do next.

He just knew he had to leave. This was getting too big for him.

"It seems like Skelly may have been right after all," Hera said softly as she walked back into the bar from the back room. Kanan straightened up, pulled another bottle from under the counter, and poured a glass, placing it in front of the barstool across from him and gesturing to it with a cocky smile on his face.

"Gonna have that drink with me after all?" he drawled, his smile becoming more genuine as she rolled her eyes and sat across from him.

"Zaluna took a look at the surveillance footage from the hoverbus." Kanan sighed heavily and tried his best not to look bored. He had forgotten about Zaluna, a Sullustan woman working as a surveilence expert for a company contracted by the Empire, but she had no loyalty to the Empire herself, not with the current situation. He wasn't really sure how she figured into all of this, but so far as Kanan could tell, she was the reason, or was in possession _of_ the reason that Hera was on Gorse in the first place. It seemed like Hera's presence and the sudden swelling of the Impperial forces was just a coincidence.

 _There are no such thing as coincidences_.

With a growl, Kanan shook his head to clear the pesky voice within him, a voice that he had tried so hard to forget, but as of late, had spoken up quite a bit. He didn't need this, not now. "Let me guess..." he drawled, drinking from the open bottle in his hand and ignoring the Twi'lek's look of distaste. "Cynda is going to collapse on itself, all of Skelly's research is right, and we need to admit that a crazed conspiracy theorist _bomber_ is the reasonable one between us."

Hera smiled softly. "I don't think we need to go that far, no."

"Well, is it too much to hope that Vidian saw the error of his ways and is going to pack it all up and ship out?"

"Just a bit much, yeah." The smile dropped off her face. "It seems that Skelly's research gave Vidian ideas. He's going to blow up the moon, the whole thing, _just_ to mine the thorilide faster and cut the time and cost it would take to send people there to mine it safely."

Kanan scoffed in disbelief. "Seems like Skelly wasn't crazy enough. Seems unbelievable to me that they could _actually_ destroy a moon, though."

"I agree..." Hera said thoughtfully, then looked pointedly at the man. "But _what if_ they could? What would happen to Gorse if tomorrow, Cynda was suddenly _gone_?"

Kanan just shrugged. "Seems like my idea to skip town is getting better and better." Hera sneered in disbelief at the carefree young man.

"Don't you care about _anything_?"

"It's never good to care about too much," he said flippantly. "You'll just be bound for disappointment." Hera stood up from the bar.

"I'm going to get some rest before I'm out of here," Hera said cooly. "I'll take Zaluna with me. I owe it to her to get her somewhere safe."

" _Well_ ," Kanan drawled, leaning over the bar to draw closer to her, "I _guess_ I can tag along. Where are we headed to first? After you drop of Zaluna wherever it is she wants to go. I know some _great_ casinos, we could-"

"I don't take riders," the Twi'lek said harshly, her hand raised to silence him and her lekku twisting in irritation. "I'm not...traveling the galaxy looking for companions or a good time. I have goals, and I don't need anybody along who isn't interested in them slowing me down."

"But Zaluna-"

"Has preformed a _service_ , not for me, but for the galaxy, at the expense of everything she ever knew, and she needs to be able to start a new life where she can be safe. I can help her do that." Hera glared pointedly at the shocked man before her and _almost_ felt bad. There had been something there before, something that had caught her interest, and she had come down tonight to see if she could find what that was, and only found a lack of conscious. A self-centered hedonist was all there was to Kanan Jarrus, and if there was more, she didn't have the time or the patience to unravel it. She was looking for people with spirit, and not everyone had that. " _You_ , so far as I can tell, roll with whatever happens, no matter what, and with whoever's in charge."

"That's... _harsh_ ," Kanan said quietly, and the Twi'lek just shrugged indifferently.

"It's what I see." She sighed when she saw those expressive teal eyes wounded. "Look, I thank you for what you've done, Kanan," she said, reaching into the pockets of her cloak and fishing out a handful of credits, which she laid on the bar before the man. "For your help."

"What am I, a mercenary?" the man asked, tense, disbelieving laughter in his voice, but Hera just shook her head.

"No, but take it anyway. You'll go further with it when you leave."

It was pointless to be upset, but the tiny voice within Kanan was offended. He quickly pushed it away as he took the credits from the bar.

She had to leave as well. With what they discovered from the survelience on the hoverbus, there would be no reason for continued investigations on Gorse. Vidian would return to his ship to research Skelly's work, and while that was happening, there was very little that Hera could do. Like Kanan, she had to get out now while the Imperials were occupied, and like Kanan, she doubted the moon could be destroyed. The level of engineering to pull off that level of destruction was enormous, something that Hera had certainly never seen before, and it was unlikely something like that existed. Yes, there would still be stormtroopers in the streets as they searched for Skelly and his accomplices, but the presence would be less, the security more slack now that Vidian was off-world.

Just as Hera turned to leave, the front door of the bar swung open, and both pairs of eyes shot to the front, wary and cautious and on guard, Kanan's hand flying to the hilt of the blaster he kept on his belt. For just a moment, Kanan's heart stopped, his pupils narrowing into pinpoints as he stared at the black and red armor of the man that walked in, and for a moment in the low light, it looked like _clone armor_. He found he couldn't breathe as he stared, not at the man before him, but at the images that flashed before his eyes, memories that he tried so hard to put away, but could never truly forget, his heart pounding in terror as he saw the clones he trusted raise their blasters against him and open fire, his Master slain as he ran and barely escaped.

It seemed, no matter how hard he tried, Kanan Jarrus couldn't put Caleb Dume away.

Kanan closed his eyes tight and opened them, the clone armor gone with the memory and he stared at a Mandalorian, which, really, was _just_ as bad. The Empire drafted _millions_ into service as stormtroopers, and they had no qualms about using their vast numbers to overwhelm their opponents, their under-trained troopers mere cannon fodder in their tactic of overwhelming might. After all, there really was no force in the galaxy that could rival the Empire anyway, so they could get away with mediocrity. Not so with the Mandalorians. Coming from a culture of warriors, each and every child of Mandalore was trained since childhood to be a warrior, and they _all_ were. The best of those served in the Death Watch, the protectors of the great and mighty Mandalorian territory, and the elite of the Death Watch joined the Shadow Legion, super commandos that wore armor of black and red, the color of the smoke and flames that they brought to their enemies as their worlds were burned.

And now, these warriors served the Empire. Kanan didn't know more than that. He didn't _need_ to know more than that, he just knew that when Mandalore came to call, you _ran_. These weren't the Imperials that he could drive away with enthusiasm for the glorious Empire. These were _killers_ , cold and brutal, a people that had followed a Shadow King, a _Sith Lord_ during the Clone Wars as he led them to burn entire systems in his mindless lust for revenge. Forget about Cynda and the possibility of blowing up the moon, these people had incinerated entire _systems_ , slaughtered the inhabitants of entire planets. And now one stood in the entrance of the bar, and all Kanan could think of were the words of his Master, Depa Billaba, before their clone soldiers gunned her down.

Kanan remembered the stories that Master Billaba used to tell him so long ago, back in another lifetime when he was Caleb Dume, Jedi Padawan, before the Jedi Purge. Before Order 66. Before the Jedi were betrayed, not just by the clones they trusted and the Republic they served, but by the Force that was supposed to guide them. Depa Billaba had fought him once. The Sith Lord. The Jedi Traitor. The Fallen Knight. _Obi-Wan Kenobi_. The Lord of the Sith, Darth Lumis, had killed her sister so very long ago, and when they fought, young Caleb's Master had done all she could to see justice done. But it hadn't been enough. The Sith Lord didn't break her physically, though he _did_ best her in lightsaber combat, with a blade that had the settings lowered to painful, not fatal, the entire encounter almost as if it were a game to him.

Kenobi had beaten Depa Billaba _mentally_ , had entered her mind and tore her apart, shattering her defenses and her consciousness so severely, so completely, that the Jedi Master of the Council laid in a coma, unable to return, for a year. Inquisitive Caleb Dume had asked her about this, of course, his curious nature driving him to understand everything about this threat that stood opposed to the Jedi so one day, he may fight against the legendary Sith Lord and bring justice to the greatest traitor to the Republic and the Jedi since Darth Revan. But his Master had been mostly quiet about it, saying little about the Sith Lord himself, but she did tell him about the troops he commanded. The Lost Battalion. The _Shadow Legion_ , the one that the Mandalorian super commandos would eventually come to model themselves after, a clone army stolen from one of the Jedi commanders and made to serve the Sith Lord and the Separatists against their purpose. A clone army in armor of black and red, of smoke and flames.

Kanan felt his heart hum, pounding so hard he was sure it could be seen outside his chest.

The Mandalorian walked casually toward the center of the room, surveying the chairs overturned in the frenzy from earlier, the stains on the ground left by spilled booze and sick patrons, the patched holes in the wall left by flying fists in drunken brawls, a few which Kanan had put there himself. He was relaxed, his arms hanging at his side as he turned and looked around, and Kanan's eyes couldn't help but drift over the blaster rifle strapped to his back, the twin heavy pistols on the belt at his waist, the blaster strapped to his thigh, but what drew Kanan's eye was the chrome, cylindrical object clipped across his belt at his lower back.

 _A lightsaber_.

Worn right in the open, which meant this man wasn't a Jedi. The Jedi were dead, in any case, and given the Mandalorian cultural history, there were only a few reasons why he could have one, but it seemed very likely that this man, this Death Watch elite, _killed_ a Jedi and took their lightsaber as a trophy, a symbol of his strength and the threat he posed. He was in danger. Had he been sent by the Empire to hunt him? Had the Mandalorian somehow seen security footage of the incident in the mines, when Kanan had reached out and unwittingly touched the Force, catching falling rubble to save his fellow miners?

He felt... _bitter_. Resentful. The Force had allowed the Jedi to die, and it wasn't something he could just leave, something he could put aside and just forget, as much as he wanted to. It had this way of creeping back in, just when he thought it was gone, when he hadn't thought about it in months, when he couldn't feel its pull, like it _was_ gone, and just when he felt he had escaped it, the Force would make itself known. And now, the Force was going to get him killed too. Even with his minimal Jedi training, he wasn't sure he could beat this Mandalorian, not without putting Hera at risk. So Kanan Jarrus did what he did best.

"What can I do for you?" Kanan said, a bright smile on his face as he pulled a shot glass from the cabinets and put it on the bar. "Would you care for a drink?"

He couldn't see his eyes through the visor, but Kanan knew the man was looking at him, and slowly, he chuckled and shook his head. "No, thank you," the Mandalorian said, and Kanan felt his heart stop. This man sounded like a _clone_. "Perhaps you could help me, though. I'm looking for someone. I thought the bars would be a good place for information, but..." He gestured to the empty room. "It seems the Imperial presence is bad for business."

Kanan shrugged, grabbing a rag from under the counter and he handed it to Hera, the Twi'lek taking it without a word and moving behind the counter to dutifully begin wiping down the glasses. "I hear it'll be good for business once they fix up the factories. Increased production, they say."

The Mandalorian hissed. "And how long do you suppose that'll take?"

"Who knows," Kanan drawled. "They say Count Vidian's on it, though, so it can't be _that_ long. He's some sort of efficiency expert, right?" He puffed his chest and drew up to his considerable full height. " _Forget the old ways_!" he said, deepening his voice in an imitation of Count Vidian's boisterous, modulated tones. "That's what he's always saying, right? I saw his holovid series, truly inspirational."

"What do you need to know, sir?" Hera asked sweetly. "Are you looking for the mad bomber too? Skelly?" She put the cleaned glass in her hand back into the cabinet. "We already told the stormtroopers we don't know anything. We'll report it if we see him. We don't want that crazy person running around."

"Bad for business," Kanan said, stroking the hair on his chin. The Mandalorian said nothing for a moment, just casually observed them.

"I'm looking for someone named Syndulla," he finally said, and though her face remained impassive, Kanan could feel Hera tense beside him. "Twi'lek, male, orange coloring, forty standard years of age, approximately."

"Never heard of him," Kanan said as he shrugged, looking at Hera out of the corner of his eye. "But if he's here, I'd know about it. Everyone comes through here at some point, and if you aren't a local on this steaming mud pile, then you sort of stand out." The Mandalorian nodded, seeming to accept this answer, and yet he stayed, looking around as if he was expecting something. "...yeeeeeesss..."

"I don't know," the warrior said quietly, looking around at everything and nothing at all. "My boss is...sort of an oddball. He sent me here to look for something... _unexpected_. I don't know what, he couldn't put his finger on it. Said he saw it in a dream. Or something."

Kanan snorted. "Sounds like your boss might be hitting the bottle a bit hard."

"He does that, yes."

"Sounds like your boss is my kind of guy." The Mandalorian stared at Kanan for a moment before laughing, the sound filtered through the helmet sounding warm and easy and genuine.

"Yeah, he's alright."

Kanan felt himself relax. The man clearly wasn't hunting him, or he would have done something by now. But Hera stayed on her guard, calm and relaxed externally, but Kanan could see her thin frame tight with anxiety. This girl was _clearly_ trouble. He'd get away from her if she wasn't so... _enticing_ , though it seemed as though Hera was in a bit of a hurry to put distance between them. Which was fine. Kanan didn't need this kind of trouble. As soon as the Mandalorian left, he was _out of here_. Maybe he'd go some place nice this time. Like Zeltros. It was supposed to be like a _party_ there, all the time.

Kanan had just about made up his mind when the lights flickered in the bar before the room was filled with blinding light, and the ground shaking as if a bomb had gone off. Here and Kanan quickly looked at each other and ran out of the bar, following the Mandalorian into the streets. They looked up in the sky to see the night sky, bright and white with the first dawn the dark side of the planet had ever seen, and when darkness returned, Cynda, Gorse's beautiful, silver moon was _broken_. Not exploded, as they had feared, but a plume of debris extended from the moon's surface and reached downwards, a tear shaped cloud of crystal and stone that had erupted out of a spot that Kanan knew all too well, where he had landed to delivered explosives every day for months.

The Empire was doing it. They were blowing up the moon, and they had started with the open mines. Kanan knew the miners there, knew the people that were currently on shift on the moon. Okadiah was there. He would have taken off running had Hera's hand not grabbed his arm in an iron grip, and it gave him a moment to think. If he was going to get there, he'd need her. Hera was the best pilot he'd ever seen. If anyone could navigate the chaos of a moon on the brink of destruction, it was her.

"My Lord, are you seeing this?" the Mandalorian, said quickly into the comlink on his wrist, and Kanan immediately stopped, his attention diverted from his plans to take Hera and run for a ship as he focused on the warrior.

"I see it, Cody," came the smooth, cool drawl a moment later, an aristocratic clip to his accent that made Kanan shiver, though he didn't know why. "I'd be impressed if I wasn't so insulted. I was going to leave well enough alone, but Count Vidian officially has my attention. He needs to die."

 _That_ got Hera's attention, her eyes quickly darting to the Mandalorian called Cody, disbelief and interest plain as day on her face. "Do you have a plan?" Cody asked, calm and collected.

"Yes," was the swift reply. "Get off the planet, Cody, investigate what happened on that moon. I'm going to go get to know our enemy."

"Don't do anything _stupid_ ," the Mandalorian warned. "You're one man against an Empire, you can't do this alone."

"I'm not alone," the man said softly, an assured ring in his voice. "I sense that in this, we are four." Cody looked up at the two people standing before him and stared for a long moment.

"Understood," he said, turning off the comlink. "Four people against the might of Count Vidian," he said, stepping closer to Kanan and Hera. "I like those odds. You got a ship?"

Kanan didn't waste another moment as he dashed down the street, Hera and Cody close behind him as they sprinted toward the shipyard.

* * *

Hera had insisted on returning for Saluna and Skelly, fearing for their safety on the planet should the worst come to pass. Kanan had complained, but not too much. He couldn't have done it without the Twi'lek, who was proving to be a much better pilot than he had thought, and his opinion of her already placed her as a better pilot than him. The Mandalorian, however, was less impressed. They were silent on their way to Cynda, Hera as she concentrated, Skelly as he looked out the viewport at Cynda, the moon he had loved and tried to save, Saluna in morose contemplation of what was to come next, and Kanan as he quickly dressed in an environmental suit in preparation for his foray into the mines to save what people he could. The Mandalorian did nothing. He just sat, calm and collected.

Kanan kept an eye on him. The more time he spent with this man, this _Cody_ , the more he understood what he was. _This_ man was a clone, as suspected, and had served in the Clone Wars, which accounted for his calm in the face of danger. But this wasn't any clone. This clone didn't appear serve the Empire, which meant he was one of the Lost Legion, the battalion that had served the Separatists. Had served the _Sith_. Or maybe not. Kanan didn't know, but ultimately, it didn't matter. This was a _clone_ , and clones were not to be trusted. The only difference between this one and the others was that he had betrayed the Jedi sooner. Perhaps if the Jedi hadn't been so blindly trustful, they could have seen the signs of betrayal that ran through all clones.

As soon as they landed, the hatch opened, and Kanan and Cody rushed out into the mess of the collapsed mine, the environmental systems failed as debris from the explosion deep within floated out into space. They didn't need to go in far to see that everyone inside was dead or dying, mortally wounded and beyond saving, but they pushed forward anyway, the Mandalorian reaching behind him and taking the cylinder on his belt into his hand and igniting it, the surrounding area bathed in the blue light of the lightsaber's glowing blade, a color that Kanan's own lightsaber shared, though his was kept in two parts, tucked safely into his personal belongings on his ship.

"Where did you get that?" Kanan asked, his voice cold and hard as he watched Cody effortlessly cut through a large stone spear that blocked their way forward. "You some sort of Jedi?"

"No." Kanan waited for him to say more, but the clone never did.

"...where did you get it?" he asked again, more biting this time, and Cody sighed, looking at the blade in his hand.

"I got it from a Jedi."

"A Jedi you killed?" Kanan said, trying to keep his voice even and measured, but he was struggling with it. "That's what you Mandalorians do for the Empire, right? You hunt Jedi."

He was silent for a long moment, cutting stone and crystal in their way as they went deeper, pushing bodies out of the way when they floated past, and Kanan looked at every single one for people he knew. He wanted to remember this. He _needed_ to remember this. This is what the Empire did. _This_ is what destroyed the Jedi and the Republic and his future. This is what was destroying the futures of countless others. This...could not be ignored. Not anymore. Not by him. Vidian needed to pay. The _Empire_ needed to pay.

"...the Jedi is dead, yes." There was... _something_ about the way he said it, some hint of sadness and a touch of longing that made Kanan feel sorry for the man, made him believe that this lightsaber wasn't some ill-gotten possession. The Jedi that owned that weapon wasn't killed by the man that carried it. Kanan _still_ didn't trust him and he kept his hand close to his blaster just in case. There was no getting around the facts of what the clones had done. They couldn't be trusted. _None of them could_.

The thought left his mind as soon as Kanan saw Okadiah's body, crushed beneath one of the toppled spired of stone, the old man ashen and cold, the breathing mask on his face clear. He was gone, and there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could have done. He knelt beside him and closed the dead man's eyes.

"Kanan." Hera's voice crackled in the helmet com of his environmental suit, and after a moment of silence, Kanan answered. "There's an Imperial broadcast to all cargo ships in the area," Hera continued, her voice tight but steady. A good person to have in a crisis, Kanan thought. "Travel to and from Gorse is now strictly prohibited, and all off-duty pilots have been ordered to report up here with the rest of the transports."

"All of them?" Kanan asked. "That's _thousands_ of ships. What are they going to do with that many ships?"

"All ships have been ordered to follow the Star Destroyer in orbit to the Calcoraan system." Hera was silent for a moment, and Kanan could feel how serious she was, and got the sense that the voice inside him, the little Jedi voice of Caleb Dume had been right at the start. There were _no_ coincidences. Hera was here because of Vidian. "That's Vidian's base of operations," she explained. "Skelly says they invented an explosive there more powerful than the already dangerous stuff you carry. Enough of that and they very well _could_ destroy the moon."

With a hiss, Cody stepped away, his lightsaber deactivating as he walked away, speaking quietly into his own comlink. "There's only one thing we _can_ do," Kanan said. "We do what they want."

"...you want to go to this Imperial base of operations?" Hera gasped in disbelief. This...wasn't like Kanan, not like the Kanan she had come to know over the past few days. Perhaps she had been wrong about him. But the plan _was_ madness, and as of yet, she hadn't been tagged by the Empire, and in this early stage of her plans, that would have been as bad as getting caught. At least, she didn't _think_ she'd been tagged. The Mandalorian had gven her a scare when he had said he was looking for Syndulla, but he was clearly in search of her father Cham, and he _was_ tagged. More than tagged, he was one of the most wanted men in the galaxy. Still, she suspected that this Mandalorian and his associate may have been in line with her way of thinking. They were a possible asset, at least one to keep an eye on in the future.

"That's _exactly_ what I want to do," Kanan said, standing from Okadiah's body and quickly making his way back, not bothering to wait for the clone.

"And what do you suppose you're going to do there?" Hera asked.

"I don't know," Kanan said. " _Something_. I'll just have to trust my instincts when I see what we're dealing with."

Kanan made his way back to the ship quickly, striding onto the ship with a purpose and determination that he hadn't felt since he had stood by Depa Billaba's side as her Padawan, and Hera noticed the change in him immediately. This matter on Gorse was beyond serious, something that Hera believed would have happened eventually, but this was too soon, and she wasn't ready, hadn't assembled a capable team to allow her to deal with things like this. Skelly was not revolutionary material, and he was a high-profile wanted man, which made him dangerous to her cause. Saluna was useful, and she wanted to help, but she was a small, meek woman with small ambitions, and soon, she would be far out of her depth. But the other two and the absent third...

 _Kanan_ was worth watching. She had seen it in him before in short bursts of heroics, only to fade into a carefree, easy demaenor as soon as the trouble had passed, but now, he was _focused_ , determined, a prolonged thing that sat upon him even as he put himself beside her in the co-pilot's seat. What he had seen inside Cynda had touched him, _changed_ him, and Hera wanted to see what he could do, and was far, far more interested in what he _would_ do. As for Cody and his mysterious partner...he was clearly already a part of something. Something big, something organized, something that Hera was _very_ interested in learning about.

As the blue lines of hyperspace filled the viewport, Hera turned to look back at the people in the ship, to take stock of the assets she would have within Vidian's base of operations. Vidian was cold, _cruel_ , a thug and a murderer that cared nothing for human lives if it got in the way of efficiency. But her assets weren't much. Skelly was badly injured, the result of a savage beating he had incurred at Vidian's hands, another attempt to eliminate a problem through murder. Cody was tending to him, the Mandalorian clearly having tended to wounds more severe than that before. He was heavily armed, yes, though against what was sure to be an army of stormtroopers in a facility filled with explosives, a firefight may not be the best of ideas. Saluna was curled up on one of the pull-down cots, fast asleep. There was little she would be able to do. And Kanan...

Well, Kanan was an unknown factor at this point.

The comlink on the Mandalorian's wrist beeped, and he quickly answered. "Cody," the accented voice said quietly, and both Hera and Kanan leaned in to listen. "It would appear as if our dear Count Vidian is playing a dangerous game. A political one." The Mandalorian chuckled softly.

"That should please you. There aren't many that play this game better than you."

"And Vidian is making a _very_ big mistake." He clicked his tongue, endlessly amused. "Pay attention, children," the voice smoothly intoned, and both Kanan and Hera _shivered_. The man on the other end of the comlink couldn't see them, but he was talking _directly_ to them. "Thorilide is in high demand by the Empire, a small piece in a large machine, the base component of the stabilizers in the turbolaser cannons aboard Star Destroyers. So, naturally, Cynda and Gorse are considered the personal property of Emperor Palpatine," he drawled, amusement creeping back into his voice, "long may he reign."

"Cynda doesn't belong to _anyone_!" Skelly snarled, wincing as he quickly jerked and aggravated his injuries, and the voice on the other end was silent for a moment before he growled, low and feral and dangerous.

"Cody, that wasn't one of our four."

"No, my Lord," the clone said softly. "Our four is _actually_ six."

" _Six_?!" the man hissed, speaking quickly in a language that Kanan didn't understand, but just hearing the words made him feel... _cold_. "Insignificants," he finally said dismissively. "The other two were not shown to me. Keep them in the ship, they are not to interfere."

" _Insignificants_?!" Skelly cried, yelling into the comlink. "Listen, _pal_ , I don't know who you think you are, but I-"

"I will have silence from you," the voice said, calm and dispassionate, and to everyone's surprise, Skelly shut up. "To get back on subject," he said after a moment of silence to be certain he would have no more interruptions, "Vidian is attempting a _scam_. A grab for power to knock one of his business rivals out of the Emperor's favor. Its some long going contest between the two to see who can stab each other in the back the most times, it seems."

Cody groaned. "Typical."

"Quite," the com drawled. "The explosion we saw on Cynda was a test to see what would happen to the thorilide if the moon was detonated. It would seem that Vidian has a quota to meet, and the destruction of the moon would allow him to meet that quota, _and_ after his success, he will hand control of mining the asteroid field to his rival."

"Generous," Cody scoffed.

"It would be, if space didn't decay the crystals. The moon is keeping the thorilide safe, and without it, the resource is wasted." He chuckled softly. "You see what that means, of course." There was silence, and after a moment, he sighed. "The _test_ , people, do pay attention..."

"Why would they destroy the moon if it destroys most of the resource?" Cody asked, Kanan and Hera drawing closer to the Mandalorian, beginning to have an idea of where this was going. "If there's nothing to mine afterwards, why even hand the mining rights off?"

"Because," the voice drawled, "our friend Count Vidian sent the Emperor a _fake_ test report, one that claims that the thorilide will be fine."

"Which sets up this rival for a fall when he fails to produce!" Kanan said, understanding coming to him as the final pieces fell into place.

"Very good..." the smooth voice drawled. "I must say, I'm almost tempted to keep this Vidian. Sabotaging the Emperor himself in order to achieve personal gain is _quite_ ambitious. It's really a shame that I need to kill him."

"A _shame_?" Kanan gasped. "How is that a shame, he's _murdered_ people! He's destroyed lives just so he can edge out a rival! Ridding the galaxy of that filth isn't a shame, it's good housekeeping!"

"And what about Cynda?" Hera asked. "If the Emperor believes that it is best to blow up the moon, then even without Vidian, the moon will still be destroyed! What will happen to the people of Gorse?"

"I'm inclined to let the moon be destroyed." There was outraged silence. "Destroying the moon is a blow to the Empire, a setback that they will cause themselves. It will force them to think twice in the future about doing such. A planet's population in exchange for such a thing is a fair exchange."

"These are people's lives we are talking about!" Kanan shouted, and Hera looked at him, impressed by his resolve.

"My goal," the voice said, "is Vidian's death. Nothing more. If you wish to save the moon, do so. I have given you the tools. Use them." He chuckled softly. "I look forward to seeing what you can accomplish." The com cut, and they were left in stunned silence.

" _Who is this guy_!" Kanan snapped, reeling on the clone on the ground, his teeth grit and his hand dangerously close to his blaster, but Cody said nothing at all, and for just a moment, Kanan felt like a Padawan again. Like he faced a Master posing riddles. Like he was being _tested_.

"It may not matter who he is," Hera said quickly. "What matters now is saving Cynda and Gorse." She looked at Cody. "That guy...he says he's going to kill Vidian. Will he?"

"Oh, he will," Cody said, nodding. "There isn't any doubt about that. When the moment is right, he will strike."

"And when is that?" Hera asked. "If he has access to all that information, he must be in Vidian's office. That other report, the real one, is supposed to be hidden. _How_ would he get it otherwise?"

"I don't question his methods," the Mandalorian said quickly. "There are things beyond my understanding that I have come to just accept, and he's one of those things."

"He must be close then," Kanan said quietly. "Why not kill Vidian the first chance he got?"

"Because the moment's not right." Teal eyes narrowed in anger, and Cody sighed heavily. "Men like Vidian don't just end up dead, and if he did, the Empire would be searching tirelessly for his killer. My brother has reasons to remain hidden."

 _Brother_. Kanan frowned. The other man wasn't a clone, his voice didn't match, so...what was he? He shook his head and focused. There would be time later to think of this. For now, he had a planet to save. "I think I know how to use this information," Kanan said, the gears in his head turning quickly. "I just need to get in contact with my Imperial girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Hera asked, her eyebrow arching as she looked at the man, and he just grinned.

"Yeah. You met her, she arrested us back on Gorse." Kanan's smile widened. "She thinks I'm _mouthy_."

* * *

The plan was simple. Find Captain Sloane. A task that seemed insurmountable the moment they stepped out into the massive loading deck of Calcoraan Depot. There were Imperial guards _everywhere_ , all of them keeping tight guard over the bay as pilots and their crew loaded the dangerous explosive on to their ships in preparation for the flight back to Cynda. Messing up here could mean death for _everybody_ , a thing that would only be the mild annoyance of a slight delay for Count Vidian. But Kanan had a plan.

"You," he said, pointing at the clone. "Death Watch, right?" Cody nodded. "That makes you an Imperial. Can you get us in?"

"Past the troopers?" Cody looked around Kanan's towering form to the line of stormtroopers guarding the elevators. "Yeah, probably. But actually getting _to Sloane_ is another matter. I have orders to avoid Vidian at all costs, and announcing our presence to the officers will just bring the Count out to play. He's too much of a loose cannon for my brother's taste."

"I can work with that..." Kanan said, securing the safety helmet on his head and turning to walk toward the stormtroopers, slowing to allow Cody to take the lead. Catching sight of the heavily armed Mandalorian made the workers scatter out of the way, and long before they reached them, the stormtroopers began to fidget, their blasters up and held tightly. Cody saluted as soon as he reached the pair guarding the elevator, the two troopers nervously returning the gesture.

"I'm Captain Boba Fett of the Death Watch," Cody said, voice strong and unwavering as he handed his identification to the troopers. It checked out immediately. "Mand'alor Bo-Katan sent me to aid Count Vidian in his task for the Emperor as a personal favor for Grand Moff Tarkin." The soldiers stood up straight, their backs ridged and their weapons lowered, the two made nervous by the mere mention of so many important people in one sentence. Without wasting another moment, the soldiers gave them access to the elevator, and the trio walked inside, the doors sliding closed behind them.

"Well," Hera said, drawing closer to Cody, "you certainly are a handy one to have around, aren't you?"

"I do try to make myself useful. But you do know that the rest is up to you, right?"

"That won't be a problem," Kanan said quickly, looking around the hallways when the doors opened up and frowning. The depot was _huge_ , and finding a single woman within it wouldn't be easy. As it turned out, they didn't _need_ to find Sloane. _She_ found _them_. Word ran up the chain of command when the Mandalorian had arrived, his high ranking status within Mandalore's infamous Death Watch alerting the officers to his presence until it stopped just below the top at the ambitious Captain Sloane. Making herself known to the infamous Mandalorian was a good way to get in with Moff Bo-Katan of Mandalore, a woman who was decidedly close with Grand Moff Tarkin, the right hand of Emperor Palpatine.

It took less than fifteen minutes for an Imperial escort to bring the Mandalorian and his two companions to a private office on the executive level of the depot where Captain Sloane was waiting, and when they entered, the woman quickly rose to her feet from the desk she sat at and saluted. Her face fell immediately when the tall man beside the Mandalorian removed his helmet, his familiar face smug, and he _winked_ at her.

"Hey there, sexy," Kanan smoothly drawled, a cocky smile on his face when the Imperial balked. "You called?"

" _You_!" Sloane gasped. "The mouthy pilot!"

"So glad you remember me! Our last date was a little awkward because of, you know, the arrest, the explosions...I was worried you wouldn't call!"

Sloane quickly moved to touch the com on the desk, activating the intruder alarm and call for backup, but Kanan was faster, his blaster in hand before she could move, and he shot the com, the device sparking and smoking from the hole burned in it. Sloane drew her own blaster, but no sooner was it in her hands, it was shot out of her grasp, and slowly, she put her hands up when she looked at Kanan's cocky smile, his weapon pointed right at her.

"What do you want?" she asked, voice tense and angry, and Kanan spun the blaster in his hand, casually pointing it back at the Captain.

"I want to _help_ you, sweetie," Kanan said, stepping forward. "See, I _'m_ an agent of the Emperor."

" _You_?!" Sloane scoffed, laughing harshly despite the weapon trained on her. "You expect me to believe that? Imagine! The _Emperor_! Hiring a drunken oaf like _you_."

"I figured you wouldn't believe me," Kanan said dramatically, his voice wounded for only a moment before he grinned devilishly and thrust his thumb back at Cody. "That's why I brought my little friend here."

Cody didn't move a muscle when he said, "Grand Moff Tarkin sends his regards." Sloane swallowed _hard_.

"Y-you could have stolen that identification, it could be a false one, it's-"

"You really want to test that?" Kanan asked, twirling his blaster around his hand and gesturing with it. "I have an important message for the Emperor. I need you to deliver it."

" _Why_ ," Sloane snarled, trying to sound vicious, but her voice was tense and nervous. "If you really are an agent of the Emperor, you report to him directly!"

"Yes..." Kanan said, slowly moving closer to the woman as she backed up, and grinned wickedly when she backed up against the desk. "But Vidian controls all communications from here, and this message is too important to be intercepted." He smiled wolfishly as he put his hands on either side of her on the desk. "I need a high ranking Imperial officer with her own resources. You _are_ resourceful, aren't you, Captain?"

"Say what you need to and _go_!" Sloane said, her teeth grit as she leaned back and away from the supposed agent. With a smile, Kanan leaned down, kissed her on the nose, and told her _exactly_ what she needed to do.

* * *

"Why didn't it work?" Kanan asked Hera, his hands gripped tightly to the control's of the ship's single forward cannon, shooting wildly out into space as Hera flew the ship like a woman possessed, a jagged, random path in the space between Cynda and the hundreds of freighters carrying highly explosive payloads. The threat was simple, and Kanan had shouted it over the open com of the miner's guild channel, one that every single ship was tuned to: fly close, and I'll shoot you out of the sky.

They weren't _actually_ going to shoot the ships. That would have been suicide, as the explosive payloads would set off a chain reaction among the entire convoy. But the threat was there and very, very believable, since Hera was flying like a madwoman. It was easy to believe that this crazy person would kill them all. It made the Imperial response sluggish as well, the dispatched TIE Fighters given the very difficult task of disabling the rogue transport without setting the explosives off. The result was several TIE Fighters shot out of the air, and a whole convoy of pilots too afraid to deposit the explosives where directed.

Of course, this wouldn't have been necessary if Kanan's plan had worked. When they arrived back in the Gorse system, they had been expecting Sloane on the deck of the Star Destroyer _Ultimatum_ to order the destruction of Vidian's massive collection ship, the _Forager_. But _no_ , Sloane had just directed the freighters to follow orders and deposit the cargo where directed. It was _really_ unfortunate, and it left Kanan with the distasteful task of stalling for time while he thought of something else.

"I don't know," Hera said between clenched teeth as she focused on flying as randomly as possible, against her natural instincts to be a _good_ pilot. "Maybe you're just _really_ garbage at flirting. Maybe she's just not your type."

"Ah, I guess you're right," Kanan conceded, firing rapid shots at the TIE Fighters that harassed them. "She's too bossy for me. I'll just have to stick with you."

Hera rolled her eyes as she banked a hard left. "As I said, _garbage_ at flirting." She flew up, down, in wide circles before she quickly changed direction and zigzagged across the space. "We can't keep this up forever," she said, wincing as she heard one of her passengers vomiting in the back.

"We need to get on that ship," Kanan muttered, pointing up at _Forager_. "Vidian's up there, but I bet there's a way to get a message to Gorse if we can get on board and get into their communications. At the very least, we can give them a chance to evacuate." Hera looked to see where Kanan was pointing. There, near the rear thrusters of the segmented, insectoid ship, were rows of landing bays open to space. It was like an open invitation. She gripped the yoke hard.

"This plan's insane. You sure you want to do this?"

Kanan nodded. These past few days, doing something, even if it was a crazy, insane something, had felt better than years on the run. "I don't have anything better to do. Let's do it." Pulling the yoke back, the ship angled up toward the _Forager_ , and pulling back the accelerator, Hera urged the ship full speed toward the open door, her expert piloting skills bringing them exactly where they needed to be, the TIE Fighters close on their tails. A bolt of green struck their wing just as they entered the landing bay, and the ship groaned, screeching as it skid to a stop, showering sparks in its wake.

The five passengers quickly vacated the ship, the wing smoking and burning, and the looked around in awe at the massive expanse of the collection vessel, but they could only stand for a moment before they were promptly shot at. Diving behind cover, Kanan and Hera drew their blasters, the sounds of shots striking against the crates they hid behind the only sound in their ears. Beside them, Cody sat with Skelly and Saluna, the injured man and the fearful woman sitting close together, their heads ducked to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Cody's hand was pressed to his helmet, the clone listening intently to the voice on the other end of his comlink.

"We need to get to the command bridge," Kanan said quickly, leaning up over the cover and shooting at the group of stormtroopers that was firing on their position. "We'll be able to send the message from there."

"Vidian will be there," Hera said softly, but one look at Kanan and she knew that the man didn't care. Nothing was going to stop him in this.

Cody dropped his hand from his helmet. "My boss' ship is on board," he said quietly, and Kanan and Hera gawked at him. "I'm going to get these two to safety, alright? I'll come back when they're on the ship." Hera looked at him gratefully and nodded.

"Be careful." Cody responded by drawing the blaster rifle off his back and nudging Skelly and Saluna with his foot, standing and shooting quickly, his perfect marksmanship striking every stormtrooper in the company that shot at them. Saluting quickly at Kanan and Hera, he motioned for Skelly and Saluna to follow him, and the trio disappeared into the expanse of the landing bay. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, Kanan and Hera rushed out of cover, running as fast as they could down the length of the collector ship. They stopped frequently to duck behind cover, either to shoot at stormtrooopers that noticed them, or to hide as they rished past, the sound of rapid blaster fire coming from far behind them. Apparently, Cody was making an absolute mess of things, and the troopers were deployed to deal with the Mandalorian menace, _not_ the two stray rebels. It was a perfect distraction, and while they had a clear shot most of the way, the ship was _very_ long, and it took some time to get to the command bridge. But against all odds, they made it.

The doors slid open, and they stepped into the room, a large, circular observation deck from which the activities on the decks below could be managed and watched over. And in the middle of the room, as if he were waiting for them, was Count Vidian, his arms and legs armored constructs, cybernetic improvements covering his entire body, so far as Kanan could tell, his face covered in synthskin, his eyes an eerie yellow set in red, ocular implants that seemed not to be made for a human. He was far more machine than man, and Kanan couldn't help but wonder if he was human at all.

"So," Vidian said, his voice loud and metallic, his lips not moving at all when he spoke, the sound instead coming from a speaker upon his throat. It was... _unnerving_. "You're the rebel infiltrators. Do make this quick. I have a schedule to keep."

It was permission enough. Kanan and Hera both pointed their blasters at Vidian and fired, the plasma bolts striking his chest and doing...nothing at all. His metallic chest defelcted the bolts as if they were nothing, and faster than ay human could run, Vidian was sprinting right at them, a furious, vicious charge that conveyed the brutality of the man. With nothing else to do, Kanan dodged out of the way and continued to fire, shooting at his face, his eyes, his limbs, _anything_ in hopes of having some effect, but it was for nothing. The Count reached out swiftly, grabbed the barrel of Kanan's blaster, and the metal crushed in his hands, screeching as it bent under his grasp, and Kanan looked wide-eyed at the incredible feat of strength for only a moment before Vidian struck him hard across the face, his vision exploding in white as he fell to the ground.

Kanan _thought_ he heard Hera screaming his name, but he wasn't sure, He tried to stagger to his feet, but nothing seemed to want to obey him. He _was_ sure, however, that Hera landed next to him, her body striking the ground so hard the floor vibrated, and then she was still. Groaning, Kanan tried to stand again, but all he could manage was a feeble kick at the ground, and he felt _stupid_ for trying something so reckless, so _foolish_. Master Billaba would have been disappointed.

"After I destroy the moon," Vidian said, coming to stand before the two dazed people, "you will be arrested and brought back to Coruscant. You will die, but it will be slow. _Painful_. And the Empire will destroy everything you love."

It was a little late for that, Kanan thought bitterly, his vision slowly coming back to him as he looked up into the merciless eyes of Count Vidian. At least he went out fighting and not running. It was good to feel like a Jedi again, even if it was only for a little.

"Ah!" Vidian cried triumphantly, turning to look at the hologram of Captain Sloan as her image flickered above the room's holoprojector. "You're just in time. I'm about to pulverize Cynda. Keep your eyes on it, Captain. It should be _magnificent_."

"I am just in time, then," Sloane said, her voice cold and hard, and Kanan could feel hope well up inside him. "In the name of the Emperor, Count Vidian, this game of yours is _over_. You won't be destroying anything today."

" _What_?" Vidian snarled, anger and disbelief overtaking him, and Kanan almost laughed out loud. The Jedi had been betrayed, yes, but now, seeing this _fiend_ be turned on, a product of his own ambition, was the sweetest thing in the world. "You cannot do this, Sloane! Stoop this foolishness this instant! You have been poisoned by there... _rebels_."

"I think not," she said, turning to the unseen officer out of frame. "Open fire on the _Forager_. Destroy that ship." An outraged, mechanical howl followed Captain Sloane as the com cut, leaving Kanan and Hera, the Twi'lek slowly coming to, alone in the room with a furious Count Vidian, his hateful eyes glaring at them as they lay between him and his exit. With a snarl of rage, Vidian stalked toward them, and Kanan tried to scramble to his feet, bracing himself for Vidian's wrath.

It never came.

Dropping down to stand between them and Vidian was another Mandalorian, his armor red and black, but this was _not_ Cody. This one wore a helmet adorned with long, curved horns that swept back along the top of his head, his armor fused with robes black as night, and when he drew to his full height, Vidian stopped.

"Keep out of the way," the Mandalorian said, and Kanan's eyes widened when he heard the smooth, clipped accent. This was Cody's mysterious associate.

"Another one of your rebel friends?" Vidian snarled. "It is of no matter! It doesn't matter how many there are of you, you will all die anyway!"

"I think not," was all the Mandalorian said, his voice smooth and collected and unaffected by the rocking of the ship as it was bombarded by the Star Destroyer, the shields quickly faliing under the assault. With a howl of rage, Vidian rushed toward the man, and Kanan's eyes widened with shock when Vidian was suddenly thrown back against the glass of the walls, the thick material cracking under the weight of the hard, metal body, and the Count collapsed to the ground. Kanan and Hera both looked up at the man that stood before him, Hera in wonder and Kanan in _fear_. He hadn't even moved, and Kanan could feel the Force, cold as ice, _rush_ to do the Mandalorian's bidding.

Vidian rose to his feet, his cybernetic eyes wide. " _Jedi_ ," he said, smooth and thick and greedy, but his opponent hadn't moved, only chuckled softly as he extended his hand, the hilt of a lightsaber flying from his belt to his palm.

"I'm _really_ not," he said, and when the blade extended, red and blazing like fire and blood, Kanan didn't wait to see what would happen. He already knew the outcome, because he knew now what they were dealing with. _That_ was a _Sith Lord_. He took Hera by the hand, new strength filling him, and ran from the room, pulling her behind him and not daring to look back.

The ship rocked under the bombardment of the Star Destroyer, walkways and catwalks falling, debris dropping all around, fires erupting from pipes and mechanics and _everywhere_ , but Kanan paid it no mind. He just ran coming to a stop only when he found a row of escape pods. Perhaps Cody was somewhere still on the ship, but Kanan dare not look. He _couldn't_ , not when he knew what it was that clone worked for. He should have known. With safety in sight, Kanan finally looked back toward the command center, and through the glass, he could see the Mandalorian, tall and intimidating and looking over the ship. Kanan's breath caught in his throat when, through the visor of the helmet, he could see two pinpoints of golden light glowing behind the mask, and he shivered, feeling the gaze pierce right through him.

" _Kanan_!" Hera's voice, loud and frantic, pulled him back to the moment, and everything seemed to slow down as he looked at her, the Twi'lek's eyes wide and fearful, and Kanan looked up to see burning rubble falling right toward them. Without thinking, he reached up, felt strength flow through him, warm and strong and familiar, and time returned to it's normal flow, Hera looking at Kanan awestruck as he held the burning metal up without even touching it, the Force coming to his aid without it even being called, his constant companion, and for the first time in a _very_ long time, Kanan was grateful to have it.

They moved quickly and Kanan dropped the burning heap, and he quickly grabbed the gawking Hera's arm and threw her inside the escape pod, climbing in quickly after her and striking the control console, the doors hissing closed, and the thrusters roaring, and a moment later, it launched.

"But..." Hera started to say, gawking and pointing at the man beside her as he looked out the viewport to see the _Forager_ in flames, explosions erupting along its length as it was destroyed. "But you're-"

"Shh," Kanan said, putting his finger to her lips and smiling softly. "Don't tell anyone." She nodded, her eyes bright and excited, and silently mouthed, _You're a Jedi_! Kanan didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He sat on the ground, exhausted, and ran a hand over his face. Everything hurt. Slowly, Hera sat beside him.

"So..." she said, smiling, "we saved a moon and a planet. Not bad work for one day."

"Yeah, tell me about it..."

"I hope Saluna and Skelly are alright," she said, looking out as the ship exploded into a bloom of flames.

"...they're alright." Hera didn't question how Kanan knew. That's what Jedi did. They just _knew_.

"...what was that thing?" she asked softly, and Kanan shook his head.

"Nothing we want to mess with," he said darkly. "Nothing any good." Hera nodded and didn't press the issue. Knowing this about Kanan, knowing he was old enough to have survived the Jedi Purge...it explained a lot about his behavior, and she couldn't help but feel her respect for him climb. Her feeling had been right. There _was_ something more to Kanan Jarrus.

"So," she said, breaking the silence between them, and Kanan couldn't help but smile, "what will you do now? If you don't have plans," she added quickly, "I have a ship, and she needs more than one person to run it right. Think you're up for it?"

Kanan looked at her for a moment, then smiled warmly. "I'm up for anything you can throw at me, dearest."

Hera grinned, a faint, mischievous look in her eye that made Kanan remember why he was so captivated by her. "Well, Kanan Jarrus," she drawled. "Welcome to the _Ghost_."

For Kanan, a man on the run for so long, a Jedi forced into hiding, forced to deny what he was, he finally felt at home.


	9. Mirialan - 10 BBY

He walked the fields of ash, a thing he hadn't done in a very long time. It wasn't like he _wanted_ to, but when the Force called him, he obeyed. He still had visions, yes, but he had been so caught up in the present, so focused on the safety of Luke and Leia that the future seemed unthinkable, a distant thing that he would see in time, but one he could not focus on until his children were grown, and their safety was _never_ assured. Though it was easier when they weren't quite so young or defenseless, and at nine years old, they were _far_ from defenseless, the two twins progressing quickly in their studies now that their father had been spending more time with them.

Luke was opening himself up to the Force with very little difficulty, the comforting rush of power within him allowing the boy to put his sharpened senses and quick reflexes to use in the harsh desert world he was growing up on, and Tatooine was proving to be a fine testing ground for the young boy. Luke was fast and agile, a talent with lightsaber combat and dedicated to the studies of all the different forms of lightsaber training, taking to the smooth, defensive Soresu just as easily as the faster, more aggressive Ataru. His talent in the Force was considerable as well, the remote Lars homestead a fine, secluded place to practice those talents, moving sand with a simple gesture and easily lifting objects around the house as he trained.

Leia, on the other hand, was much more muted, much quieter with her abilities, but no less powerful. She was quiet, subtle, taking a keen interest in her father's ability to manipulate the minds of those around him, and as outwardly talented as Luke was, Leia was just as strong, but her powers were turned inwards. She was subtle and cunning, her place as a princess of Alderaan giving her little privacy in which to practice with her lightsaber, but plenty of time to perfect not only influencing people, but in making sure her talents remained _hidden_ , an important skill that Luke was struggling with, and a talent that suited her well in the field of politics, something she had shown a keen interest in because of Bail Organa.

However, it was when Leia Organa and Luke Lars came together to shed their disguises and become Luke and Leia Kenobi that they truly thrived. The twins were a matched pair, two parts of a single whole, and working together, they grew they fastest, made their greatest strides, two minds working toward a singular goal of knowledge and learning, their vastly different interests driving them to become the other's teacher in the areas they were lacking. Luke was patient and gentle, a fair teacher at even a young age as he helped Leia walk through the lightsaber forms, and Leia's persistence and stubbornness saw her through her instruction of her brother's concealment in the Force.

But the truly striking thing about them was how different they were, how they reached a fork in the road and took the path the other did not. Their looks were deceiving, because Luke was truly Padmé's child, sweet and caring and understanding like his mother, already showing signs of temperance and compromise and a strong sense of right and wrong that made Padmé so good at what she did. Leia, on the other hand, may have been in Padmé's image, but she was her father's child. Cunning and mischievous, little Leia was a creature of passion, possessing a fiery temperament that she struggled, and often failed, to control. She lacked Luke's impulsive streak, but it only made her calculating, patient anger allowed to breathe and grow until she could see her own justice exacted, until she eventually got her way.

In the twins, Obi-Wan saw the future of the Force, both the Dark Side, and the Light, a perfect balance of two very different people coming together and learning from each other, the strength of their bond keeping them closely linked despite Luke's steadfast commitment to the light, despite the darkness that ran through Leia. They loved each other completely unconditionally, and it made Obi-Wan think that perhaps the Jedi and the Sith had been wrong since the beginning, the painful split of the original Dark Jedi poisoning the futures of both orders. But now the Jedi were dead, their precious Code crushed beneath the heels of the victorious Sith, and when Sidious was dead, the path the Sith would take would belong to Obi-Wan, and he would follow the will of the Force. The Force strove for balance. Maybe in this, through Luke and Leia, his light son and his dark daughter, it could finally be achieved.

A few very close calls and some staggering defeats saw Obi-Wan changing his tactics, the Empire's presence becoming too strong, too powerful to get involved with the periodic uprisings that occurred on the more repressed and exploited worlds, as he had been doing before. And so, he disappeared, keeping out of the Imperial eye as much as he could, only getting involved when he could stay hidden, his involvement concealed completely, as he had done last year with that mess on Cynda.

He still sent Sidious messages, though. Small things to remind his old Master that he was still out there, still watching, still waiting. Little things to keep the Emperor paranoid, which was a sentiment that easily filtered down through the ranks. His last gift, the cyborg head of Count Vidian, had been attached with a small, unassuming message that simply read, " _You're welcome_." Obi-Wan thought it was thoughtful, another generous offer for another glorious Empire Day, but the turbulence in the Force that night seemed to suggest that good old Sidious thought otherwise.

Some people were _so_ ungrateful.

Biding his time, carefully selecting his battles, and staying far, far under Imperial detection suited Obi-Wan far more than the past several years of reckless involvement in making certain the Empire ate the shit it was producing. Drawing attention to himself may have worked in the Clone Wars, but now, he had something to protect, something to come home to, and he owed it to his children to be safe and return home to them. Besides, an afterthought the ghost of his presence, the _suspicion_ of him being somewhere was far more effective than actually giving them something to chase. By forcing the Empire to jump at shadows, they had no idea which ones were real, and it made them spread their forces thin.

It was very similar to what Sidious had done to the Republic. And Obi-Wan _did_ learn from the best.

Being out of the bulk of the fighting also gave him more time to spend with the kids, time to sit in quiet contemplation of the Dark Side as he learned from his stolen holocrons, time to attend to his army, now that they were growing older. Most of them were now past the age of the children that the Inquisitorius usually targeted. Force potential manifested early, which made the Emperor's Dark Side agents keep their focus on younger children, brought to their attention and torn from their homes to be corrupted and trained to serve the Empire. But Kenobi's army was a few years above the age where talent was displayed, which kept them out of the worst of the scrutiny, provided they were smart and careful, and their training as Mandalorian warriors saw to that.

But there were other things too. A stirring in the Force that pulled him deep within, the beast deep below opening its Sith yellow eyes and watching him as he grew stronger, as he lost himself to the visions that used to plague his mind like a fever. And now he walked the visions, the ashes forced into the air with each step he took as he carefully navigated the field of dead Jedi strewn all around him, no longer a vision as it had once been, but a reality that had come to pass. And still...

The Force continued to pull him back, its cold grip redirecting his attention every time he looked away, and it had been doing so for the better part of a year. Ever since Cynda. Ever since he saw _him_. Obi-Wan was certain he felt the Force within him, his feelings confirmed when he watched him extend his hand in a panic and save himself and his Twi'lek companion from falling debris, and after that, the man, _Kanan_ , had disappeared. It was the first time Obi-Wan had ever met him, but he _knew_ the man. Too young to have been a Jedi Knight, but old enough to have been a Padawan, Kenobi was certain that he had never met the boy on the field of battle. If he had, the man would have been among the Jedi dead in his field of ash. But no, this man stood above it. He _always_ had.

Obi-Wan walked past the form of Ahsoka Tano, the shadow she had been now clearly visible, older, more assured, _wiser_ , her lekku growing long, the points of her montrails tall in adulthood. It had been a while since he had seen her, and Ahsoka, _Fulcrum_ , was now a woman, fully grown and tall and proud, something neither the Jedi nor the Sith could claim. And she was _beautiful_ , a shadow of gray within the Force that stood in stark contrast to the bright of the light and the darkness of night. But Ahsoka wasn't what he was here for. He had taken time to marvel at her earlier, to appreciate her beauty, her power, the way she repelled the darkness, but shunned the light, a thing that Quinlan Vos could have been proud of. No, Obi-Wan was here for _him_.

Teal eyes looked up at him from a defiant face, his dark brown hair wild and unkept upon his head, and Obi-Wan stood before the teen, his arms crossed across his chest as he stared at the Jedi Padawan. The years may have changed Ahsoka within the flow of the Force, but this vision, this boy, had remained untouched, an aggravating mystery to Obi-Wan that he was certain he would solve, though he had no idea _when_. He had never seen the boy, never met him, though he had looked for him during the war and found nothing, tried to get a feel for his presence in the vision and let the Force lead him where he needed to go, but it was all for nothing. And when the Force brought him back here a year ago after his involvement in the Cynda affair, he knew he had his answer.

The boy, the Padawan, the Jedi that never was always reverted back to this, a young teen with a defiant stare each time he strode across the ashen fields strewn with the bodies of the dead. And now, Obi-Wan stood before him, reached out a finger and touched the boy's forehead, and the image rippled, fading and distorting and reforming a moment later, an image from the past brought to the present as the boy grew tall, his messy brown hair tamed and tied back, his teal eyes bored and carefree, a sardonic look upon his face. The man from the _Forager_. _Kanan_.

Obi-Wan had sensed the Force within him, though it was faint, like it had been put away in the back of his mind and lay forgotten. No wonder the boy had evaded Imperial detection. All Jedi roaming the galaxy doing good deeds, helping those in need, fulfilling what they saw as their purpose were dead, prey to the tides of the Force that demanded the deaths of the stalwart defenders of the Republic. But Jedi like _this_ , like the younglings raised to be savage Mandalorian warriors, like Yoda spending his time in quiet contemplation of what it was the Force truly desired, like Kanan pushing the Force away...those Jedi stood a chance. Those Jedi could make it in a galaxy such as this. Those Jedi could stand beside the likes of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka Tano when the time was right. Those Jedi may have a place in the new Order after Palpatine was dead, after Obi-Wan ruled the Sith, after Luke and Leia were grown and following their own paths, where ever that may be.

It gave him hope that he may one day find Luminara.

Luminara Unduli was smart and resourceful, but she was also a Jedi at the very heart of her, and it was unlikely she would be able to take the deaths of those she held dear, the collapse of the Jedi Order, the rise of the Sith without taking a stand. It was likely she was dead. Obi-Wan had often reached for her in the Force, tried to find her, tried to touch her presence, but he could never sense anything, could never feel the warm touch of her within him, the place in his mind she held a cold, dark void. It was painful to touch it, and these days, he rarely did. There were days when he thought he felt her, moments where a place deep within him lit up with her presence, only to vanish moments later as if it were never there. Obi-Wan would dive in after the feeling, but the result was always the same. Luminara was gone, and in her place, grief sat.

He felt the same with Satine. With his son. With Quinlan. With Padmé. With Dooku and Ventress, with Barriss and Grievous, all holes within him, gaping, bleeding wounds of different sizes, different depths, all held open by the Dark Side, all kept from healing to fuel his grief, his rage, his hate, to plunge him further from the light and deeper within darkness. Occasionally, he would feel their touch, their presence, faint and luminescent piercing through the darkness, and everything within him reared against the warmth, knowing it to be a trick of the light, only to fade a moment later, leaving pain in its wake. He felt the same thing for Luminara. She was dead, or she was _very_ good at hiding.

He pushed the vision away when he felt someone standing before him, half expectant, half impatient, all commanding, which Kenobi found... _endearing_. There was little sense in looking for Kanan. If he had evaded the Empire for as long as he had, then he could certainly avoid Obi-Wan. The Force would bring them togetehr, if it was to be so, and he suspected it was. His visions had showed him as much. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, Kanan... _something_ , all standing together among the field of the dead. There must have been a reason. The Force would show him the way in time, if he was patient.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, his pupils narrowing and the gold of his irises blazing as he took in the blinding white of the snowy expanse before him, and with a smile, he turned his eyes upward to look at the blue and silver armor of the Mandalorian warrior before him, the symbol of the Empire in full display upon her right shoulder, the Shriek Hawk of the Death Watch on her left. Upon her chest was a plaque of rank, six squares of blue sitting atop six squares of red and yellow, the highest rank one could achieve in the Imperial military. A sector governor. A _Moff_.

"You know," Bo-Katan said, pressing the end of her blaster rifle against the long, black scar that crossed Obi-Wan's bare chest, "if you're trying to impress the women, you're going to have to come inside. It's _snowing_ , nobody's coming out to watch a half naked man freeze."

"I don't think I will," Obi-Wan said, a soft smile on his chest as he looked up at her. "You came to me." The Mandalorian rolled her eyes, but flushed all the same, though Obi-Wan suspected that it could have been from the cold.

"What are you even doing out here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Everyone is inside training, you should be there."

"Qui-Gon's there."

Bo-Katan's face flushed red, this time, with anger. "I can't _see_ Qui-Gon, Kenobi, because Qui-Gon is _dead_."

"He's a ghost!"

"A _dead ghost_!"

"Just because you can't see him doesn't mean he isn't there," Obi-Wan said defensively. "The younglings can see him, and that's what matters." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hands settling on the knees of his crossed legs. Snow fell on his body, the flakes melting as soon as they touched his skin, making it appear as though he was untouched by the elements, unaffected by the cold in the air. "And to answer your question, I'm meditating."

Bo-Katan groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You Jedi and your meditations...aren't you cold?!"

"I do not feel cold." He wrinkled his nose and added as an afterthought, "Also, don't call me Jedi. It's insulting."

A sly smirk on her lips and her hands on her hips, Bo-Katan leaned in and slowly drawled, " _Jeeeeeediiii_..."

With a sigh of defeat, Obi-Wan stood, draped his arm over Bo-Katan's shoulders, and slowly trudged back to the large training facility in the snowy valley below, the sneering, disgusted woman flushing furiously as they walked together. Carlac, as a world, was a snowy waste on the far north western edges of the Outer Rim, making it about as out of the reach of the Empire as one could get. Death Watch had set up an outpost on the planet under the guise of helping the Oversector governor Moff Vanko keep the sector in order. Between the vastly important Muunilinst, the financial center of the galaxy, Mygeeto, strip-mined for durrasteel and plagued by rebel uprisings, and the Weequay pirate group led by a perfectly giddy Hondo Ohnaka, Moff Vanko seemed out of his depth, and the ever helpful Moff Bo-Katan had offered the assistance of her most elite soldiers to bring order to the area.

It helped that Vanko was horrifically incompetent, only in the position because he had been close to Palpatine before, and the man was losing vast amounts of money to the pirates, and falsifying his budget reports to cover it up. The Mand'alor looked the other way, of course. She couldn't have someone effective in the position when she needed her base on Carlac to serve as an occasional training ground for hundreds of Mandalore's adoptive youth, most notably the ones that had special... _talents_. Bo-Katan made her presence invaluable, working in tandem with Obi-Wan and Hondo to increase pirate attacks when her soldiers left, and have the entire band move out completely when her forces returned. The Mandalorians were the finest soldiers in the galaxy, after all. It was no wonder pirates ran away from them.

Carlac in particular was chosen as their base of operations for a few reasons. It was disgustingly remote, far, far away from any major hyperspace route which made it difficult to get to, but it also kept everyone else away. It also wasn't the most hospitable planet, snow and howling winds all year round keeping anyone even partially reasonable from going near it, which the Mandalorians claimed was ideal for hardening their warriors. But most important was what they found on the planet, deep in caves under their snow covered mountains. On Carlac were _kyber crystals_. Not in any large quantity, certainly not enough to outfit a new order of Force users, too small to attract the attention of the Imperial miners, and not even o a fraction of the amount that had been on Ilum before the Empire mined it to the planet's core. But it was there. _Kyber crystals_. And it belonged to them.

"Tarkin was here last week," Bo-Katan said, trying to shake free of the half-naked man and failing horribly to dislodge his arm from her shoulders. "To survey the compound on my invitation. He's trying to get ideas how to improve the quality of the stormtroopers, he's trying to make my warriors the standard."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Oh, good old Wilhuff...no success there, I take it." Bo-Katan snorted in disgust.

"As if just anyone can be Mandalorian..."

"Any word on Geonosis?" Bo-Katan groaned and leaned her head against Kenobi's shoulder. _Nobody_ had been able to discover anything. Since the attack on the supply convoys in the _Carrion Spike_ a few years back, information on the project had been hard to come by, and actually making it to Geonosis wasn't a possibility. Kenobi's interest in the project had led him to Count Vidian as well, but in the end, it...didn't work out.

"He isn't saying anything about it, and it's not like I can ask him directly," she mumbled. "I'm not even supposed to know something's there."

"The power to destroy a planet..." Obi-Wan mumbled, his eyes closed as he drew the Mand'alor closer to him. "I saw him in a vision," he began, the woman beside him scoffing loudly. She had _never_ put any faith in the Force, and even now, after seeing what she had, she still brushed it off. There was no sense trusting in something like that, and since she couldn't feel it, there was little point in thinking about it.

"Didn't know you dreamed about Tarkin, Kenobi. He'd be disgusted if he knew."

"Mm, maybe I should send him a love letter," Obi-Wan said, a devious smirk on his face. "With _explicit_ detail. And drawings."

"If I'm around when he reads it and he vomits on me, I'm going to give you up to the Empire."

Obi-Wan smiled softly and kissed her temple. He liked the fiery Kryze sister. Family is more than blood, as the Mandalorians say, and she had sacrificed more than most for him. "I saw a planet disintegrate in his hands," he said, shrugging when the woman looked at him with a bored look that screamed her distaste. "It could mean many things, of course. Visions are rarely literal, and their meaning is often lost or hidden until it actually comes to pass, but...what if what will come to pass is _exactly_ what I'm seeing? What if Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin has the power to destroy a planet? What if that's what this project is?"

"You think they're trying to find a way to destroy a planet?" Bo-Katan asked, lowering her voice as they drew closer to the Death Watch compound. "That's... _impossible_. A weapon of that magnitude is unthinkable." She paused. "Where would they even build a weapon that size? How would they even power it?"

"Kyber crystals..." Obi-Wan muttered, his hand tightening around her shoulder. "That's what they need them for..." He shook his head. Bo-Katan was right. It was unthinkable, but somehow, he knew he had landed on the truth of it. "I wonder if the science for such an undertaking actually exists. I wonder how much the destruction of Desolation Station set them back..." Kenobi growled and stopped the woman just outside the doors to the compound. "You need to get details out of Tarkin." Bo-Katan groaned in frustration.

"I told you, Obi-Wan, he's-"

"I hear he _really_ likes you, sweetie..." he drawled, running a finger down her cheek, and he felt equal parts desire and revulsion within her.

"Powerful woman attract powerful men," she said matter-of-factly. "And the Kryze girls have always drawn attention to themselves." She laid a hand on his chest, a wry smirk on her face as she traced the long, black scar with her thumb. "Just _look_ at what my sister managed to attract." With a soft, possessive growl, Obi-Wan took her hand in his and kissed her palm, and a clever smirk came to her face. "I may not be Satine, but I know how to string men along."

"You ought to seduce him before he escapes your grasp."

"I would if I thought I'd benefit from it," she mumbled. "He isn't exactly the sort of man to share secrets with lovers." Kenobi nodded and kissed her cheek.

"Keep your ears open for anything."

"I will."

Smiling at her, Obi-Wan tapped a code into the control console on the wall, and the doors slid open, the two walking inside the compound and were met with hundreds of young Mandalorians, from age ten to those in their teens engaging in target practice, hand to hand combat, and weapon training, staves and knives and sticks in hand as they practiced, all of them fast and athletic, far more than any child their age had a right to be, war orphans belonging to several different species, each one adopted by Mandalorian warriors, each one a child rescued from the Jedi Temple the night the Republic fell.

They didn't meet often, once a month, if they were lucky, and when they did, Obi-Wan was always there, the Sith Lord's presence strong enough to obscure the presence of such a large gathering of Force sensitive beings. The Inquisitors would need to get quite close to the planet to be able to feel that something was present on snowy Carlac, and with no reason to be somewhere so remote, with no native population large enough to draw the attention of scouts looking for those born with Force sensitivity, the Inquisitors, so few in number, had no reason to venture there.

Kenobi walked the compound with Bo-Katan, the lower they went, the more telling the prodigious children's talents became, combat with sticks giving way to combat with training sabers, the athletic training replaced with practice with the Force, and lower still, groups sat in meditation as they built their own lightsabers under the instruction of the Force spirit that haunted the Sith. In a room far in the back, some of the younger children walked the length of a table where kyber crystals lay spread, the selection taken from the crate Cody had stolen from the supply line to Geonosis. The actual caves below the mountains where the crystals naturally grew was restricted, only the older children allowed to set foot near them when given permission by Qui-Gon or Kenobi when they were deemed ready, were they unable to find a crystal that spoke to them among the thousands the shipping crate carried.

Obi-Wan smiled softly as he watched them training, so different from what it was like within the Jedi Temple when he had done his own training. The Mandalorians had changed the younglings, had raised them into warriors instead of peacekeepers, survivors, not servants, those who used the Force extremely sparingly in order to evade detection, but knew well the powers they commanded could be used to devastating effect when necessary. They were raised with strong attachments, Force sensitive children with Mandalorian, not Jedi values, and for it, they were far more dangerous than anything the Jedi could have produced. They weren't corrupted by the dark, or restrained by the light, instead taught to follow their instincts, trust in their feelings and the Force, and in doing so, they made decisions that were emotional, tied up in love and hate, protection and destruction, and they were stronger for it.

Many of these children would fall to the Dark Side, and when Kenobi became the singular Master of the Sith, they would come to follow him as the next generation of Sith Lords. But not yet. The Dark Side was complex and cruel, not a thing for children to become steeped in, lest they become corrupted, the darkness decaying and eroding their potential instead of building upon a strong foundation. And those that _didn't_ fall to the Dark Side would at least be _exposed_ to it, the culture of the Mandalorians they were raised into valuing aggression and anger and revenge in addition to family and honor, all things that would leave the children _very_ familiar with the emotions that the Jedi took such care to avoid.

Not all would be Sith, no, but these Force sensitives would never fall into the same trap the Jedi did, their vehement rejection of darkness leaving them blinded when night fell. These children would walk the dark as well as the light. Like Luke and Leia, these children would be the future of the Force, the strong base of the new Sith, the powerful guardians of a Force that roiled with darkness still, despite the need to bite back at Sidious.

As he drew deeper inside the compound, the feel of the Force thick and powerful around him, Obi-Wan slowly began to feel... _something_. A faint pull at the back of his mind as he gently instructed the children on how to channel and focus anger, how to keep from being consumed, how to turn wild emotion into deadly purpose, important skills not just for the Sith, but for all Force sensitive people, were they not trained to be the living droids that they Jedi Order sought to create through the elimination of very human emotions. And the gentle nagging never left, like a small voice, a whisper in the back of his mind that pulled on his attention, leaving him unfocused and distracted.

For hours, he tried to focus, pushing aside the irritating pulling, the incessant buzzing, a side effect of being so close to so many Force sensitives, he was certain, but the feeling never passed, and as time went on, it grew stronger. Obi-Wan relented, separating himself from the older teens he was working with and snarling all the way back outside the compound, grumbling as he shrugged his robes back on, at Bo-Katan's insistence. The moment he exited the warmth of the compound, the contrasting shock of frigid wind pushed the feeling away, only to have it return a moment later when he close his eyes and plunged deep inside the Force.

It was _painful_ , the waves of the Dark Side disturbed and turbulent as they crashed against a soft, muted light, a tarnished thing that once may have been a thing of beauty in the dawn, but here in the dead of night, it looked almost ghostly. Obi-Wan embraced the feeling, held it close, grit his teeth as pain tore at him and he embraced the power that bled into him. He _knew_ this feeling, knew this presence, had felt it many times before, had held its light close and dear to him, even as his own light faded. And it was close. Not on the planet, but... _close_. Fading. In _great_ danger, and as soon as he gripped the feeling, the Sith Lord rushed for his ship, the _Umbra_ cutting through space at full speed as Kenobi allowed the Force to guide him to his destination.

* * *

Ord Mynock was _humid_ , not terribly hot, but the air was thick and sticky with moisture drawn from the plentiful swamps and jungles that covered the planet. There was little in terms of civilization here, only a few towns and a casino that rested high upon the mountains above the dangerous jungles below. The low population was attributed to the highly dangerous nature of both the wildlife and the vegetation, the flora and fauna considered categorically hostile and deadly.

In short, it wasn't a place to take the twins on their third annual camping trip that year.

So when the _Umbra_ , safely cloaked behind it's stealth shielding, approached the planet to see _two_ Star Destroyers in orbit, Obi-Wan knew he had come to the right place. Cody had complained and objected the entire way down to the planet, circling around the back side to make their approach through the atmosphere, and trusting his instincts to take him where he needed to be. Obi-Wan sat the ship down within the dense jungle and commanded Cody to remain behind with the stealth systems engaged, and to flee without him at the first sign of danger, which the clone was staunchly against.

"We need to leave," Cody had said to him. " _Now_. Nobody is worth this."

But Obi-Wan couldn't leave. The Force had guided him here.

 _Luminara was here_.

The presence of the Star Destroyers could only mean one thing, and the Empire only sent two things to hunt Jedi. Inquisitors, and Darth Vader. The Dark Side was turbulent and strained, but once out in the jungles, he could feel Luminara's distress, her pain, her panic, her legendary resolve a thin shred of what it once was, her determination wearing thin. Even a Jedi Master such as her could only run for so long. At some point, even the strongest would break, and Obi-Wan could sense that the Mirialan was close. From his place deep in the Dark Side, he could feel the ripples along the surface, the small waves created by others. Not the deep, powerful currents that Vader inspired, but something that moved the Force none the less. The Inquisitors. And there were _many_ of them. And another. A presence he hadn't felt in a long, long time. A presence that made the beast within him snarl and rage, cold fury gripping him in sharp claws that cut and bled.

 _Maul_.

Maul was alive, and he was _here_. Obi-Wan had assumed he had been killed, and he had heard no mention of the Emperor keeping a _second_ dark hand beside him. And yet _here he was_. The man that killed his lovely Satine and his son. It took everything within Kenobi to turn the fires into ice, passionate hate quickly transforming to cold rage, recklessness exchanged for patience as he concealed his presence deep in the Dark Side and melted into the shadows of the jungle.

Cody was right. This situation was _very_ bad. He had no idea what Sidious had done to his first apprentice in the past nine years, but it was very possible that he made him into something great again, something to rival the might he possessed at his peak. Obi-Wan may have been able to win against such a creature, but Maul had _always_ been good, and it would have been a hard won victory. And with the presence of _several_ Inquisitors on the planet, and with Luminara quickly fading, it seemed unwise to go after them if it could be avoided.

But most importantly, he could feel the presence of Darth Vader, not on the planet, but very, _very_ close. He could beat Vader, had beaten him before, but it had been difficult, and the scar across his chest attested to the danger of the man. _Yes_ , he was diminished now, but here on Ord Mynock, he brought his full Imperial might. His body may have been ruined, his potential shattered, but he was still powerful in the Force, still a vergence of energy, and not an opponent to be underestimated. Nearly ten years of service to Darth Sidious wasn't something to be ignored. Today's mission was survival, not just for him, but for Luminara as well, which meant keeping out of sight, his presence unknown. Escaping the system, let alone escaping the planet would be _very_ difficult if Vader was alerted to his presence.

His course set, Kenobi look a deep breath, grabbed on to Luminara's fading light, and ran off into the jungle with only the Force to guide him. To call it a hostile environment was a serious understatement. Literally _everything_ was carnivorous, from the several species of large, jungle cats he encountered slowly creeping through the trees, to huge, crushing vines that crawled high into the canopies. He even passed by a plant with large, snaking vines that held a hoverbike in its grasp, the sharp, thorned petals closing around the hapless machine as a thick, viscous acid began to melt it. Every step had to be a careful one, every movement calculated and precise, lest he misstep and end up wounded, if not worse.

It didn't take Kenobi long to find bodies. Stark white armor shone like a beacon as he inched toward a clearing of trampled underbrush in thick, muddy ground, the bodies of stormtroopers lay mangled upon the ground while avians with crushing beaks and rows of fine, sharp teeth tore through armor and into flesh. They chirped and chattered in low tones as he approached, but did not fly away, predators warning against coming closer, but Obi-Wan did not obey, reaching out with his hand and grabbing the large, winged beasts with the Force and swiftly ending them, the frantic, pained squawks silenced before they could draw attention.

Obi-Wan knelt beside one of the bodies, the trooper torn in half, entrails hanging partially eaten from the savage divide, the ground muddy with blood, and Obi-Wan quickly found the cause of the deaths, not what he was hoping for, but what was expected. He stepped over the bodies, his boots sinking into the soft ground as he made his way to the large, dead feline at the edge of the clearing, thick vines snaking around its form and beginning to pull it toward a toothy growth that hung high in the trees above them. Through the vines, Kenobi could see a long, deep cut along its flank through skin and muscle and bone, deep enough to nearly cut all the way through the beast, the edges smoking and blackened and burned. A lightsaber, no doubt, and the warmth that still lay within the creature's body suggested that the slaughter hadn't occurred long ago. They were close.

The comlink on his wrist beeped, and before he answered, Obi-Wan turned the volume setting down low, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, though he sensed that the Force sensitives were not in the immediate area. "Brother," Cody said, and Obi-Wan put the device to his ear to hear him over the raucous noises of a jungle filled with predators, dangerous creatures in an ecosystem where even the most ferocious may be prey for another. "I had to leave.

"Did the Inquisitors detect you?"

"No, a _vine_ tried to _eat the ship_. We need to leave. I have a lock on your current location, I'm coming to get you."

"No, not yet," Obi-Wan said softly, ignoring the curses of the clone. "The Inquisitors are close, and I don't want them knowing we are here. Those Star Destroyers aren't there for show."

"No person is worth this, sir. The Jedi-"

'Is the last of the friends I kept from my time as a Jedi Knight, Cody," Obi-Wan hissed. "I was _very_ close to her, she was close to Quinlan, we were _inseparable_ when we were young."

"Sounds like love," Cody scoffed, and the Sith Lord rolled his eyes.

"Say what you will, Luminara isn't dying on a planet like this, not if I can help it. Stand by, avoid detection, await for my signal to come get me."

Cody groaned loudly, and Obi-Wan had to hold the comlink away from his ear. "Even if you kill every bastard on that planet, we're not going to be able to get away. This area is _highly_ militarized, this place can be swarming with Imperials in minutes. If they know to look for you, they'll know to be looking for a stealth ship and we'll be found."

"I know, that's why I'm going in _quiet_." The sigh on the other end was defeated. Kenobi had made up his mind, and there was nothing to be done about it. "I'll send word when I'm ready to leave. Just have the ship prepared to run _very_ quickly." He shut off the comlink before Cody could answer and silenced the device, closing his eyes and attuning himself to the flow of the Force around him, and a moment later, Obi-Wan was off again, slipping through the shadows and wrapping himself in the cloak of the Dark Side to obscure himself from detection.

Kenobi climbed up into the trees when he heard shouting from nearby, frantically barked commands and the swift approach of beings aided by the Force, and Obi-Wan quickly moved in the canopies, running from branch to branch toward the noise, stopping and crouching still in the trees as he looked down at the jungle below him. _Inquisitors_. Six of them standing before the gaping maw of a cave along the base of one of the mountains that dotted the landscape, but none of them moved to enter. One of them, a Pau'an male, from the look of it, seemed to be in command, the other Inquisitors standing before him with their hands behind their backs, awaiting orders while their leader contemplated the cave. Obi-Wan frowned. These Inquisitors were stronger than the ones he had encountered before, made more powerful over the years as the Force sat steeped in darkness, their cruelty rewarded with power from the Dark Side. And the leader, the Pau'an, was far stronger than the rest. Nothing like the might of Vader, and certainly no match for Obi-Wan, but he _was_ powerful, not a Dark Side acolyte out of Dromund Kaas, but something far better trained, and a wide grin spread across Obi-Wan's face when he realized exactly what he was.

This Inquisitor had been a _Jedi_.

That alone made him a formidable opponent. Obi-Wan's hand touched the lightsaber on his belt, his eyes focused on the group below him, and stopped when the Force tugged at him, frantic and insistent, his hand stayed by the distress of his friend, her presence suddenly weakening considerably. He let go of the lightsaber.

"The Jedi is inside," the Pau'an said cooly to his companions. "She is weakened, but do not underestimate a Jedi when they are desperate. Remember that she had killed three of our brothers and sisters today." Obi-Wan smirked. Even weak and emaciated as she felt, Luminara was holding her own. His amusement faded immediately when he saw Darth Maul, cold and hard and savage, emerge from the mouth of the cave, sneering in disgust as the Inquisitors knelt. It was fortunate that Obi-Wan heeded the pull of the Force and stayed his blade. It could have been _very_ bad if he didn't.

"Lord Vader is on the way," Maul snarled, stalking before the Inquisitors who seemed to wince and shrink away from the Zabrak's wrath. " _None of us are pleased_."

"Master..." one of the Inquisitor's pleaded, a woman, the face shield of her helmet pulled over her face. "She is a Jedi _Master_. She once sat on the High Council, she-" The Inquisitor choked, clutched at her throat as she struggled to breathe, and the Pau'an looked at her with disgust.

" _Excuses_ ," Maul snarled, "are never tolerated by my Master, never tolerated by Lord Vader, and never tolerated by _me_." He drew his lightsaber, the red blade humming to life, and he pointed it at the Pau'an. The pale man didn't flinch, just stared at the weapon impassively. "We called you Grand Inquisitor for _this_?! _Excuses_. Words of weak men to make themselves feel strong, even in their failure!"

"Upon our return, I shall see to it that they do not stoop so low again," the Grand Inquisitor said softly, furious yellow eyes watching his subordinate as she choked.

"She's _one Jedi_!" Maul shouted, the fury in his voice sending avians flying into the air, the surrounding area falling silent in the presence of the cold wrath of the Sith Lord, and Kenobi watched carefully. There was something there. _Something_... _hollow_ , something fearful, something at the edge of Maul's mind that tugged and pulled at him, a nagging voice that warned him of danger, and the feeling was making him agitated. On edge. Obi-Wan smiled devilishly. Perhaps Maul didn't notice it, but something within the Zabrak sensed the presence of a Sith Master, and it _cowered_.

"One Jedi!" Maul shouted again. "On the run for _nine years_ without friends, without allies, without a single hope in this galaxy, with _nowhere to turn to and nowhere to run_! You shot her down on this... _hell scape_ , she is injured, has no means of escape, and yet, she killed _three of you_ , and still evades capture!" Maul ran his hands over his head, tugging in frustration at his cranial horns. "Sith hells, if there weren't so few of you, I'd kill you all..."

"What would you have us do, Master?" the Grand Inquisitor asked, standing when the immediate danger of the wrathful Zabrak had passed. "The tunnel network is vast and dangerous and the creatures that created them have been stirred into a frenzy." Maul growled. _That_ particular setback irked him. The creatures, long, segmented insectoids with round, gaping mouths lined with rows and rows of razor sharp teeth reminiscent of the fearsome Sarlacs of Tatooine had been roused to alertness by their first assault inside the caves when Jedi Master Luminara had rushed inside. They had followed, only to lose her moments later in the dark and twisting tunnels, and their shouts, the clanging steps of the stormtroopers that accompanied them had awoken the entire nest of the subterranean beasts. They had eaten the stormtroopers. Blasters seemed to have no effect on the hard, reflexive carapaces that covered the segmented worms. An Inquisitor had died as well. Lightsabers also proved to be ineffective.

It was worse than the mission to Ryloth.

"Forget it," Maul snarled. "This is the only way in, so far as we can tell, and I sense she is still inside. If those creatures don't kill her soon, Lord Vader will. We wait. She is weak and injured. If she leaves the tunnels, she will be forced to run again, and she no longer has the strength for it. And the bitch can't hide forever."

A cold snap whipped through the air, and Maul felt the breath rush out of him, his heart pounding and his chest tightening with familiar fear, and the sounds of lightsabers filled the air, the Inquisitors drawing their read weapons and facing out toward the jungle, falling into tight formation. Whatever it was, they felt it too, and they were _frightened_ , though the confused looks on their faces indicated that they had no idea why.

"Something's here..." the Grand Inquisitor said, and Maul _shivered_.

"Lord Vader is coming, it must be him," another said, but Maul knew very well that wasn't it. This was... _different_. Familiar. Something neatly tucked away, but never forgotten, and never far from his mind. It was subtle, _powerful_ , cold as ice but comforting all the same. It was fear, yes, primal and savage but a known fear, a... _comfortable_ fear, one he suddenly found himself longing for, his chest aching from cold and need. It was dangerous here, but all the terrors of this hellish planet faded before the fear of something he _knew_ was worse, and he _welcomed it_. Tendrils of darkness seemed to snake through his mind, deep and pervasive, the cold so intense that his body seemed to flood with warmth and relief, the final act of the mind to bring peace to a man freezing to death.

Maul's eyes quickly shot up, wide and fearful as he gazed into the canopy of the trees above, the focal point of his fear, the place from which the cold originated, the nexus where the Dark Side was drawn and...there was nothing. No leaves moved, no branched swayed, no animals stalked above. A vicious shiver passed through Maul, a sudden shill as he felt a shadow pass by, though there were no shadows upon the ground, no clouds in the sky, the sun directly overhead and casting the group in sunlight. And yet, he had _felt it_ move past, as if something moved to eclipse the sun for just a moment. Maul gripped his arms and shut his eyes as he shook, doing all in his power to ward against the cold as he whimpered.

" _Master_..."

* * *

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed as he navigated the twisting, winding tunnels, using the Force to guide him on his way, his senses locked onto the faint, wavering light that was Luminara Unduli, so close, though her light seemed so dim, so far away. He _could_ see in the perfect darkness of the subterranean tunnels, but with eyes that glowed with the power of the Dark Side, it made him an easy target, a bright light in the dead of night, and from what he understood, the creatures that made their home here didn't take well to invaders. So he closed his eyes and walked softly, but quickly. Vader was coming, and that gave him something of a time limit. There must have been other ways to exit beside the way he came in, but he had no idea where they could be, and a person could lose themselves in the vast labyrinth, the darkness turning even the most certain traveler around until even concepts like up and down became uncertain.

The teeming life energy of the creatures within the Force only served to further confuse things. Kenobi could lock on to Luminara, use her presence to guide him, but once he had her...then what? The Force wasn't a _map_ , and it could very well guide him right into Maul or Vader, which he _really_ didn't want. But he had a plan. Setting it up may be a challenge, but when it was ready to execute...

He sensed her first, and heard her soon after, a weak, tremulous whimper of pain and exhaustion, and without thinking, Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, saw her huddled in the nearby bend of the tunnel, and he softly gasped, "Luminara."

The reaction was immediate, far faster than he expected from an injured woman, far more vicious than he expected from a Jedi, and before he could move, the tunnel was bathed in glowing green light as her lightsaber hissed to life and pressed deep through his shoulder. He swiftly grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, a savage grown in his chest from the pain, and he watched her face turn from intense focus to recognition to horror. With a soft, mewling gasp, Luminara deactivated the lightsaber, the weapon clattering to the hard ground from her shaking hands, and she staggered back, her hands covering her mouth, and her back hit the wall, her small, thin body sliding to the floor. Pushing away the pain, an easy thing to do since it hurt far less than expected, Obi-Wan knelt before the Mirialan and gently laid his hands on her shoulders and she winced when he touched her.

"Luminara."

"You did this," she gasped, her voice clear and strong despite the pain in her body and the tears in her eyes. "The Jedi are gone because of _you_."

"Yes."

"Everything I've ever loved, everything I've ever known is _gone_! That is...not such an easy thing to let go." She shivered and looked away. "The death of _everyone_. All at once..."

"...Yoda said you helped save the younglings, so...not all is lost." She looked at him, her eyes narrowed in anger and pain and betrayal and then...it faded away. As if it was never there. She reached up and touched his face as if she didn't believe he was real, as if he would vanish if she let go.

"We could only save them because you warned me." The Sith Lord said nothing, and she whimpered, both hands on his face and running through his hair, and he felt a swell of affection, warm and desperate through her touch, the sudden release of all the feelings she had been forced to put away while she ran, and it overwhelmed him. He looked her over carefully, the wear of nearly a decade of a life torn apart on her, her robes cut shorter and in tatters, her headdress gone to allow thick black hair to brush her shoulders, her previously thin frame now almost skeletal. The Jedi shivered as his hand drifted down her body to rest on her exposed, wounded leg, the thing cut deep and bleeding through the strip of cloth that she had wrapped around it. Truly, she was at the end of her rope.

"Obi-Wan..." she said, soft and breathless, her voice shaking with gratitude and relief, gasping when the Sith Lord reached out through the Force and into her mind, reestablishing the connection that they once had so long ago, a Force bond that hadn't existed since they were both too young to be Padawans, but the connection ran deep, and once touched again, it quickly flared to life in support of her breaking will. Neither knew who moved first, but they met halfway, their lips touching for just a moment, soft and chaste before they pressed closer, more insistent, a thing of relief and gratitude more than anything else, of physical affection that had long since been denied to them both.

"You are an _idiot_ ," she hissed, her hand in his hair tightening as she pulled away, but her eyes filled with worry, her gaze never leaving his, the only light that could be seen in the dark of the tunnels. "You shouldn't have come for me. _Vader_ has been hunting me, there isn't any escape from this, they find me everywhere I go. I have been running non-stop for months."

"Sounds like you need help," Obi-Wan said softly as he stood and helped her to her feet, the Jedi leaning against him, the toes of her wounded leg barely touching the ground.

"Sounds like this will put _you_ in danger," she said, her voice heavy and weary, holding on to her old friend for support. "Anywhere you take me, they will be there eventually. You'll lead them right to you. They know I'm alive, and they know how to hunt me."

"You don't think I can take them?"

"Not all of them, no. Even you have limits, Lord of the Sith." With a smirk, Obi-Wan leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"I think I liked you better when you were kissing me." He grinned when he could feel her glaring at him, and he extended his hand, her lightsaber flying into his grip, and he leaned over and clipped it on to her belt. She was right, of course. There weren't many ways to make a rogue Jedi of her standing disappear, not if she had been doing anything but sitting quietly on a remote planet, which, for Luminara Unduli, was impossible. She was a Jedi Master, and a Jedi helped people. She wouldn't be able to stand for injustice, and this galaxy had so much of it.

"There are Inquisitors here," Luminara whispered, limping beside him as he snaked an arms around her waist and supported the majority of her weight. "And Maul. And _Vader_ , Obi-Wan, Anakin's coming for me, I heard them say they would call for him, I barely got away last time!"

"I know, I heard," he said softly, quietly leading them through the tunnels. "Do you think you can retrace your steps?" She shook her head.

"There are creatures down here, and I keep seeming to find them. And soon, Maul and Vader will be here, and-"

"Forget it," Obi-Wan said quickly. "I have a plan. It _is_ a little crazy, though." She was silent at her side, tense and pained, and he quickly brought his lips to her temple. "My friend, I _know_ you were ready to die, and I understand the risks. But the least I can do is help you disappear for a bit. They'll find you again, but hopefully you'll be well rested by then."

"And what is it you expect me to do?" she asked softly. "Am I just supposed to sit and watch as everyone suffers?"

"Yes."

" _No_. I can't, I-"

"You will do what you most to survive," Obi-Wan said forcefully, his grip around her waist tightening. "Or you won't. The choice is yours." He shrugged. "If you can disappear for long enough, I'm...a part of something of a rebellion. It's not ready yet, but it will be soon."

She opened her mouth to respond and quickly shut it, her grip tightening around Kenobi's shoulder, and the Sith winced as her fingers dug into the recent lightsaber wound she had inflicted. There were _footsteps_ , muted echoes of heavy, metallic legs, and Luminara shivered beside the Sith Lord, Kenobi closing his eyes and reaching with the Force to feel exactly who it was and where it was coming from. They were close. _Very_ close, and had to have been tracking the Jedi, a hunter after prey. Obi-Wan could hear no breathing. This wasn't Vader. A slow, devious smirk spread across his face, and he kissed Luminara's ear.

"Do you trust me?" She said nothing, her eyes wide and fearful as she nodded, and Obi-Wan took the lightsaber off her belt and pressed it against her palm. "Keep walking. When you feel him close, turn it on."

" _What_?" she hissed. "Obi-Wan, I-"

"Trust me..." He released her, said nothing more, and slipped into the shadows. With a sigh, Luminara did as she was told, gasping in pain from the sudden lack of support. She didn't have to wait long for cold, cruel laughter to echo through the tunnel, and she turned quickly to see a pair of yellow glowing eyes growing closer behind her, the tunnels bathed in red light as he activated his lightsaber, and swallowing hard, she did the same.

"Vader," Maul drawled, his voice hard and cold and cruel, "owes me a thousand credits, _and_ he's going to fix the cooling unit in my room on the ship." Maul grinned. "We had a bet, you see. He said he'd find you first because he's stronger in the Force and he can _smell_ fear." Maul shrugged. "I said that we needed a hunter, and nobody can track Jedi better than I can."

Luminara held her blade up, the tip shaking. "You're going to have to actually kill me first, and I hear on that count, his record's just a _bit_ better. _He_ wasn't bisected by a _Padawan_."

"Oh, I'm going to show you exactly what that feels like..." he snarled, his slow, predatory advance gradually closing the distance between them. "Then you'll know how impressive it was that I actually survived." He smiled cruelly when he felt the Jedi struggle with fear, her defenses waning and her focus divided, but the smile quickly dropped off his face when the wrist of his sword hand was grabbed in a tight, crushing grip, and an arm snaked around his waist, long fingers digging into his hip as he was drawn against a strong, cold body.

"Hello, sweetie..." a smooth, accented voice purred in his ear, and Maul whimpered, his eyes dilating and his body shaking, the lightsaber dropping from his hand when he felt teeth grip his ear and bite down, not hard enough to injure, but hard enough to hurt. He would have collapsed if his cybernetic legs weren't holding him up.

" _Master_..."

"Oh, _baby_ , you remembered!" Obi-Wan said, his tone light and pleased and _so_ cruel as he nuzzled the Zabrak's neck, and Maul whimpered desperately, unconsciously tilting his head to the side to expose his neck, and Obi-Wan swiftly kissed the quivering muscles. "Once a slave, always a slave, hmm? Does Sidious treat you as well as I did?"

Maul shut his eyes tight and swiftly shook his head, gasping in pain when a strong, firm hand painfully grabbed his chin. "N-no, Master," the Zabrak whimpered, devolving into helpless moaning when the Sith Lord took his shaking hand and brought the palm to his lips, reverently kissing at the deep bite marks that had been left there, just as he always used to do. Maul's mind shattered, whimpering and moaning and trembling as his Master took what he wanted, the Zabrak hyperventilating when he felt pleasure course through him, an automatic reaction to the Sith Lord's pleasure.

"I need you to do something for me, pet," Lumis drawled, stroking the Zabrak's chest and feeling his heart pounding fast and hard beneath his skin. "My good friend Skywalker is here, yes?" Maul nodded. "Find him. Tell him you found the trail of the Jedi. And then lead him deep inside the tunnels away from her." A wry smile crossed his face as the Zabrak shivered. "I understand you two are quite adept at killing insects within their homes."

"He'll know..." he whimpered. "He can sense her, he can-"

"Who do you fear more, _filth_?" Kenobi snarled, kicking out the back of the Zabrak's mechanical legs and sending him crashing to his knees.

"Y-you, Master!" Maul said, his voice high and tense with panic as he grabbed at the Sith's robes and brought his lips to Lumis' thigh. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He moaned softly as long, elegant fingers ran along his head and touched the horns that rose out of his skull.

"You didn't track her with the Force," Kenobi said softly, sweetly, and the Zabrak shivered, his arms wrapping around Kenobi's leg. "I suspect my presence will shroud hers and make her _very_ difficult to locate. And should that not work..." He shrugged. "Say you have found a faster way. I don't care _how_ you do it, slave, just _get it done_." Lumis kicked Maul off him, and with a whimper, the Zabrak rushed off to do as he was told, his footsteps sounding for a long while after he disappeared from view. Luminara turned off her lightsaber when Obi-Wan held her close, supporting her once again.

"You are cruel."

"I am Sith, what did you expect?" A faint smile crossed the Mirialan's face. This, she could live with. For a time, they walked in silence, Luminara's head resting wearily against Obi-Wan's shoulder as he wandered the tunnels in search of something, though what it was, she didn't know. He suddenly stopped, his hand extended and his glowing eyes staring straight in front of him, but Luminara could not see, couldn't sense _anything_ through her unfocused mind. She was in desperate need of rest, just as Obi-Wan had said.

"I can't see," she said softly. "Why have we stopped."

"There's a drop just in front of us," Kenobi whispered, his hand absently stroking at her hair, and the Jedi leaned into it. She never forgot the Code, she lived by it still, but...the Jedi were dead. She didn't harbor attachments, but she saw little harm in embracing the comfort of her old friend while she had him, while he was there, and letting go when they parted. Just as she always had. "And, I'm calling our ride."

She looked at the comlink on his wrist, the usually green light upon it a dull yellow. This far underground, there was no connection, but she could feel him reach out with the Force, commanding and dominating, and she began to realize what it was he was trying to do. "Obi-Wan," she said softly, her hand gripping his robes tightly, as if she would lose him were she to let go. "Is Barriss..." She trailed off, but the Sith understood.

"No," Obi-Wan said softly. "She died a long time ago. I'm sorry." Luminara nodded, accepting it immediately.

"How?"

"Skywalker killed her." He could feel the Jedi tense beside him. "She made him work for it, though. She would have made you proud. I know I was." Luminara said nothing as the ground begun to shake, and moments later, from the chasm before them, an enormous creature rose, it's carapace lined with luminescent, glowing spots, shrieking as it spotted the two Force sensitives, and just as it began to lunge toward them, it stopped, twisting and turning and writhing in pain as Obi-Wan grabbed its mind and forced it to submit to his will. With a low, slow clicking of its teeth within its gaping maw, the insectoid pressed its mouth against the tunnel wall, two long, sharp claws like pickaxes striking into the dirt, and with stunning speed, the beast began to burrow through the dirt and rock of the mountain they stood beneath. Obi-Wan faced Luminara and smiled as the long body slithered into the newly formed tunnel.

"See? Crazy plan."

"Never a dull moment with you, is there?"

"You'd be surprised." Grabbing on tightly to Luminara, Obi-Wan reached out his hand and ran it along the side of the swiftly moving insect, his fingers catching upon one of its segmented joints, and he used the grip to hold on, his feet planted firmly against the creature and his free arm clutching the Jedi tightly to him, his eyes closed as the physical contact allowed him to assume direct control of the creature. Soon enough, they were swiftly moving through a new tunnel that would break out to the surface, a new exit through which they could escape.

It didn't take long for sunlight to blind them as the long, insectoid predator breeched the stony slopes of the mountain it lived beneath, the two of them hissing against the light and squinting as their eyes adjusted, their unwitting mount screeching in pain as it swiftly began to dig beneath the ground once again. Kenobi tapped his comlink as his eyes slowly adjusted, and Cody answered right away.

" _Where have you been_?!" the clone shouted, and Obi-Wan winced, blinking in the sun as he looked at Luminara, and he frowned. Her green skin was pale and sickly, and she was covered in cuts and scrapes and burns and bruises and dust and dirt. As soon as they were safe aboard the _Umbra_ , he was going to put her in the shower and straight to bed after that.

"Out of touch," he replied swiftly, quickly grabbing Luminara by the wrist and dragging her up the mountain when he heard outraged screams, filtered through a vocal modulator, echoing out of the hole they came through. _Vader_. He didn't seem too happy. "Have you been detected?"

"Not yet..." was the clone's nervous reply, and Kenobi snarled when Luminara tripped over her feet, the pain in her leg making running uphill for any length of time a distinct impossibility. He scooped her up in his arms, grabbed hold of the Force, and ran as fast as he could, jumping up the jagged rocks when his footing was sure.

"Enter coordinates for the jump to hyperspace, and pick somewhere random, somewhere we don't care about. Do you have a lock on my location?"

"Hold on..." Cody said, tense and focused, the soft beeping of the _Umbra_ 's central command console heard in the background. "Alright," the clone said after a moment, "coordinates set for Tiems in the Belderone sector."

Kenobi whistled. "You're right, nobody cares about Belderone. Nice work, brother."

"I have a lock on your location. Don't move." The com cut, and Obi-Wan dropped behind the rock formation he was standing upon, and he looked out across the dangerous world, the vegetation at his feet thinning as the mountain went upwards, the expansive jungle below unable to reach so high up the mountain as they were. He was silent, clutching Luminara to him tightly until he heard the all too familiar hum of the _Umbra_ 's engines, the ship leaving its stealth cover as it honed in on their location. Obi-Wan jumped back up onto the rock formation, the sleek black and red of his ship hanging before him, the boarding hatch wide open above them, and touching the Force, Kenobi jumped into the ship, slamming his hand on the console upon the wall to shut the doors and seal the airlock as he felt the ship accelerate, the nose upwards as they shot through the atmosphere.

Obi-Wan slid down the wall, Luminara still clutched tightly in his arms, felt the metal behind him shudder as the ship sped forward, the hyperdrive engaging as they made their jump, the low hum of the engines around them sounding like safety. He felt the rapidly rising and falling of the Jedi's chest, her swiftly beating heart, the tension slipping out of her body as she realized she was safe. Her hands gripping his shoulders, Luminara sat up in his lap, her legs straddling his hips, and she gently caressed her cheek, a faint smile on her lips when golden eyes looked up at her.

"Qui-Gon always said that Obi-Wan was alive within you," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. "I think you're more Jedi than you think." When he opened his mouth to protest, Luminara's lips covered his own, much deeper, more passionate than before, the sudden rush of life within the Jedi filling her when before it had almost been dead within her. Obi-Wan moaned softly against her, his blood rushing with the pull of both the Dark Side and Luminara's own empathetic connection to him, his hands slowly resting upon her hips. She'd be alright. Luminara Unduli was strong, and even with the death of the Jedi, even with the rules and the Code all cast away in the face of a new age, this particular Jedi would come through this, would rest, recover, and be ready to fight again in no time at all.

She wasn't just a powerful new ally, she was...a friend. The last one in a long line of dead, nine years of wondering about her fate finally resolved, and Kenobi could not have been more pleased.

But Cody wasn't, by the look of the clone's face as he stood at the door, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed in anger. When Obi-Wan broke away from the heavily breathing Mirialan and held her head to his chest, the clone pointed an accusing finger at the Sith Lord. And in a low, deep growl, said five words that Obi-Wan had often said to Cody.

" _No sex in the Umbra_!"


	10. Empire Day - 9 BBY

In preparation for the celebration of a decade of Imperial rube by Emperor Palpatine, Tarkin made an executive decision to move the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station from Geonosis to the new high security facility on the planet Scarif in the Abrion sector, a remote area in the Outer Rim disconnected from the major hyperspace lanes. While it made actually getting to the planet something of an irritation, there was _nothing_ of note in the entire sector, and it made keeping the project secret _far_ easier. There had been enough delays in the project as it was. He wasn't going to allow further another Empire Day to come and go with yet _more_ setbacks, and since this was a big one, everyone was preparing for the worst. Obi-Wan had _vanished_ for the better part of two years, save for the occasional delivery to the Imperial Palace, the odd note, the faint shadow of his presence whenever something... _weird_ and illogical and unreasonable happened in the galaxy.

Like the time an entire company of stormtroopers responded to an anti-Imperial protest by, instead of drawing their weapons and firing upon the unruly mob, breaking out into a poorly choreographed approximation of the latest opera masterpiece out of Coruscant, a magnificently long piece that took over three hours, start to finish. The mob had turned into an _audience_ , and though the protest had ended, so did Imperial effectiveness in the area. Or the time Jango Fett's DNA strand on Kamino was replaced with the DNA of a former Gungan Senator from Naboo, a thing the cloners either didn't realize or overlooked until it was far too late and the Tipoca City cloning facility was flooded with _thousands_ if the braying infants. The incident had led to the immediate end of the cloning programs on Kamino. Or the time...

Tarkin shook his head. There were _hundreds_ of examples ten years of Imperial glory marred by a _child_ forever trapped in the body of a twenty year old prankster. A twenty year old that _happened_ to have an abundance of the Force, the willingness to liberally use it, and the careless irreverence to defy logic and reason in favor of his needy, attention-seeking game playing.

But then, the Force didn't obey logic or laws. It just didn't belong in an ordered, reasonable galaxy. It was...an unknown factor. A random variable in an equation that could alter the outcome not at all, or catastrophically, a thing that couldn't be quantified or measured, a thing with no place in science or in an Empire built on order and yet...there it was. The Jedi were dead, and while Vader used his powers to bring order to the galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi was an agent of chaos and used his connection to the Force as the random, incalculable factor that it was, not to promote destruction, though he _did_ destroy a fair bit of Imperial property, but to spread mischief. By doing so, by making a show of Imperial incompetence, he dealt a harder blow to the Empire than if he had simply blown up their stuff like a _reasonable_ terrorist would. He destroyed their ability to instil _fear_ , their chief weapon against those that would oppose Palpatine's reign.

For now.

The DS-1 Orbital Battle Station, codenamed Operation Moondust, _should_ have been ready by now. Ten years of tireless building, of resources pouring into its construction from across the galaxy, of Geonosians and Wookies enslaved as tireless laborers on the project, of the greatest scientific minds in the galaxy working to make this powerful weapon a reality, and still, it was far from complete. Serious setbacks had occurred during its construction for a variety of reasons, but the one that made Emperor Palpatine most angry were Kenobi's attacks. There hadn't been many, but it had been enough to see the station's projected completion date pressed back years every time he did _anything_ , because the things he had done were carefully planned, expertly executed precision strikes. Essential convoys attacked, research stations destroyed, labor uprisings upon Kashyyyk, which should have been _impossible_ because of the inhibitor chips implanted in the brains of most of the Wookies.

The fallout from these delays didn't fall upon Tarkin. He had enough to do as it was. As the overseer of the _entire_ Outer Rim, it fell on him to control the wild and expansive territories, which he was largely successful with. The occasional inept sector governor, lazy, disinterested officers, and corrupt officials did exist, but Tarkin kept the majority to task. If they could get away with their incompetence, then they were at least clever and shrewd enough to cover it up. No, Tarkin was merely responsible for overseeing the construction of the project. The one _actually_ responsible for it was Orson Krennic, a man whose ambition far exceeded his reach, despite his considerable genius. Krennic was only in the position he was because Tarkin had allowed it, and the Emperor was keen to have this proposed super-weapon, a thing that Tarkin was still uncertain could actually be done.

Tarkin didn't actually _know_ much about the weapon they sought to create, only that it _theoretically_ could come to possess destructive capabilities far beyond that of anything else in the galaxy. All Tarkin concerned himself with was that the Emperor was willing to invest, and it was up to the Moff to protect his interests, which was fine. Leave the setbacks and failures to fools such as Krennic. There was something to be said for a man that rose from nothing such as Krennic did, but Tarkin loathed the little upstart, a genius made idiot by ambitions far outside his reach. It didn't help that Krennic, in his youth, had something of a reputation for nocturnal carousing, a thing that Tarkin himself cared little for, and he felt it spoke poorly of the man's character. Still, he had wished him luck in the project's success, though remained skeptical of the little idiot's ability to actually deliver what he had promised.

With Empire Day fast approaching, the project had been moved, and in order to maintain the secrecy of the project, Tarkin had ordered the execution of the Geonosians. _All of them_. It was planetary genocide, the extinction of an entire race to cover the tracks of a weapon that may have had untold destructive capabilities, something that the Emperor couldn't afford to have his subjects knowing about yet in the project's infancy, lest opposition to the project lead to more costly setbacks. Something they couldn't afford to have _Kenobi_ knowing about.

Tarkin suspected that Obi-Wan, the clever, creative bastard, already knew a great deal about the project, or he wouldn't have been attacking its construction so effectively. Still, he was just one man, and even he could only do so much damage. Even _he_ wouldn't know fully what it was the Empire sought to build. How could he, when components were built all across the galaxy in small pieces presumably for the construction of Star Destroyers? When knowledge of the project was limited at best, spread out in small doses of information between hundreds of high ranking Imperials, no one having all the pieces, no complete picture able to be created. When the ones who actually _assembled_ the basic structure of the station were poisoned to death on their own planet. When the Empire was willing to cover their trail in bodies and blood, genocide in exchange for secrecy. A fair trade, so far as Tarkin was concerned.

The intercom on his desk switched on with a burst of static, drawing Tarkin's attention away from his work. "Governor," the aide on the other end said, "Moff Ssaria has arrived."

"Send her up, and see to it we are not disturbed," Tarkin said softly, shutting off the intercom as he leaned back in his seat, his fingers steepled together as he looked out the window overlooking the wilderness of Eriadu's Carrion Plateau off in the distance. Ssaria served as the Governor of Castell, one of the worlds that served as the headquarters of the Commerce Guild, and during the Clone Wars aligned themselves with the Confederacy, despite being surrounded by Republic space. The planet had been the center of numerous uprisings bordering on outright rebellion until Ssaria was brought in, her brutal tactics effectively destroying the people's will to fight and earning her the nickname the Fiend of Castell. The Burning Moff, they called her, after she had set fire to an entire district within the capital city, resulting in the deaths of thousands of innocents, along with the detractors she sought to destroy. It made her an obvious choice to assist in the genocide of the Geonosians, and the woman had been happy to assist the Empire in any way she could, asking no questions as she led the team that planted the canisters of toxic fumes deep inside their hives.

She strode into the office, head held tall and shoulders back, and she bowed curtly before the Grand Moff. Beside her strode an Imperial Officer, a fresh faced man in his early twenties, his eyes cast respectfully toward the ground, this year's model of protégé that Ssaria had hand selected from one of the galaxy's Imperial Academies. The Moff had an eye for talent, a keen sense for the ambitious youth that would come to be the future leaders of the Empire. Those she had selected in the years prior had already gone on to do great things and achieve high rank quite young, a testament to their will and drive for success. Because of her own way of command, Ssaria tended to select those that shared her cruel streak, her brutal methods for control, both traits that would take them far if they were willing to embrace it, and they all had.

This one, though, seemed a fair bit more timid than the others, his gaze never leaving the floor and his cap pulled down low, hiding his clean shaven face. It could have been respect or shyness, Tarkin couldn't tell, but knowing when to be silent was an important part of doing well in the Imperial chain of command.

"The purge has been completed, Governor Tarkin," Ssaria drawled almost dismissively, as if she were discussing a budget proposal and not the execution of an entire species. An entire _planet_. Tarkin nodded, appreciative of her frankness, something else that had seen to her rise through Imperial rank. The nature of the subject was delicate, of course, but Tarkin's office was one of the few places that wasn't wired with security cameras and microphones specifically for this reason. "The droids scanned the planet. No signs of life have been detected."

"Very good," Tarkin quickly said, keeping his eyes on the officer. He hadn't moved at all, hadn't reacted. If he hadn't been a part of the gassing of Geonosis, he at least knew about it, but Ssaria kept good company. If he was here, he was trustworthy. The project was kept secret because the pieces were scattered. Someone had to know _something_. Ssaria and her officer knew about the execution, but not about _why_. It was one of the reasons Tarkin liked the woman. She didn't ask questions, she simply executed orders. "The evidence?"

Ssaria sniffled. "The nature of the gas smothers any fire we attempt to start. We had collection droids sweep the planet and collect the bodies to be taken elsewhere for disposal." She shrugged indifferently. "My first officer here suggested they be dumped on Maryx Minor. It's some planet covered in lava at the edge of the Outer Rim that _nobody_ cares for."

Tarkin leaned forward and observed the boy. He hadn't moved at all. "A wise choice, officer," Tarkin said softly. "What's your name?"

"Officer Ben, sir," the boy said, his accent the light crisp clip of Coruscanti elite.

"He's _young_."

"He came on personal recommendation from the Royal Imperial Academy by Commandant Deenlark himself," Ssaria said, infinitely pleased with herself. "One of the fastest to ever pass through the Academy, I had to snatch him out of under Colonel Yularen. _Such_ a waste of potential."

"A bit more timid than your others, Ssaria," Tarkin mused, and the woman grinned wolfishly.

"It's true he doesn't say much," Ssaria said. "An admirable trait, I think. He won't ask too many questions, say the wrong thing, or give up any secrets. The _perfect_ assistant for the purge of Geonosis."

Tarkin turned his eyes to the still and silent boy. "And do you have an opinion of your task, officer?"

"...I do." A small smile, cruel and cunning crossed the boys lips, something somehow dark and devious, hiding a certain savagery behind the visage of a young face. "The power to destroy a planet," he whispered, chuckling softly, peering up at Tarkin from the shadows of his face, and the Grand Moff found himself unable to breathe as he looked into eyes that glowed gold. "You're overstepping your bounds, Wilhuff. That's _my_ domain."

" _Kenobi_!" Tarkin quickly reached across to the intercom, his finger freezing in the air just above the device, his hand shaking as he struggled against invisible restraints. He couldn't move. His eyes shot to the Imperial imposter, his finger quickly tapping against Ssaria's forehead, and the Moff's eyes rolled back in her head as she dropped to her knees, her body swaying almost drunkenly before the intruder. _How_ could he look so young? The man must have been close to fifty years old, and barely looked old enough to shave. _How_? No wonder they had been unable to find him, they were looking for a man much older. Obi-Wan sighed as he removed the Imperial cap and ran his hand through his sandy blond hair.

"Put your hand down, Tarkin. You won't need help," Kenobi said softly, and Tarkin grit his teeth, his arm shaking violently as he struggled against his own body, his hands folding neatly before him upon the desk. A strangled cry of frustration came out of the man's throat, and Kenobi just grinned. "This _is_ what you wanted, isn't it?" he asked gently. "After all, you _did_ say you did not wish to be disturbed, and there are _no_ security measures in this office." He smiled. "Do you know how difficult it was to get you alone in a place where you aren't monitored? The Emperor has his eye on you, but even you are nothing next to the preservation of his secrets."

"Are we adding impersonating an Imperial Officer to your ever-growing list of crimes, Kenobi?" Tarkin spat. "I must say, I am _very_ disappointed. The pettiness of this one tarnishes the outstanding atrocity of your record." Kenobi gently laughed.

"You should be pleased to know that I won't be ruining my reputation with mediocrity, then." He tapped the plaque of rank upon his chest. "I _actually_ attended the Imperial Academy." He shrugged. "I can't say I'm impressed. Even minimal effort puts me leagues above your prospective youth, it only took me a few months to distinguish myself, though..." He flashed Tarkin a smile. "They are, admittedly, children."

"What is it you want?" Tarkin asked in a frosty tone. It was senseless doing anything else but addressing the man directly. He couldn't move, and help wouldn't be coming. He had asked for it himself, after all. All that could be done was find out what the man wanted and attempt to stall for time. Someone would come eventually. They _had_ to.

"I want to play a game, Wilhuff," Obi-Wan said, his hand gesturing in the air before him, and Tarkin rose from his seat behind the desk and moved around to sit on the chair at the other side placed for guests in his office. Kenobi took _his_ seat, and Tarkin could feel his pulse race when the irreverent man put his boots upon the desk. "A numbers game. Your numbers against mine. Shall we compare?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Tarkin snapped, looking out of the corner of his eye at Ssaria, the woman swaying and out of it, but very slowly regaining her senses. But Kenobi just smiled.

"Dathomir," he drawled almost sweetly, the menace in his tone sending shivers down Tarkin's spine. "Fifty two hundred. Kessel. One hundred twenty five thousand. Makeb. Two billion. Oba Diah. Three billion. Ord Mantel. Four billion. Nal Hutta. One billion." He stopped, looked up at the ceiling in contemplation, and Tarkin could feel the blood rush from his face. "Give or take. Add that to who knows how many I've killed during the Clone Wars, but let's be conservative on that one and say another million, and that totals to..." He waited, looking expectantly at the Grand Moff, and Obi-Wan sighed in disappointment when the man didn't answer. "Just over ten billion." Obi-Wan shrugged. "As far as mass murder goes, that's a respectable number. _Quite_ a lot of blood on these hands," he said, wiggling his fingers.

"You have _far_ more than that!" Tarkin snarled, but the Sith Lord just shrugged his shoulders.

"Perhaps." Gold eyes narrowing, Obi-Wan slid his feet off the desk as he leaned in, peering at the Grand Moff. "You're list isn't _nearly_ so impressive, Tarkin, but your totals!" He laughed out loud at that. "Geonosis. _One hundred billion_." Kenobi whistled. "True, the Geonosians were _barely_ sentient, so my total has inherently more worth, but _you_...the extermination of the entire hive, and in doing such, you have surpassed my total by _tenfold_."

"Are _you_ trying to make me grow a conscience?" Tarkin gasped. " _You_? You who just confessed to the destruction of six worlds?!" Kenobi blinked his golden eyes, looking genuinely confused for a moment before he shook his head.

"No, that isn't the point..." he mumbled. "What do I care about the lives of the Geonosians. Useless, disgusting insects, the entire lot of them." He drummed his fingers upon the desk. "But the destruction of worlds? That's _my_ line of work. You're encroaching upon my territory, Tarkin, and I'm _offended_."

"Your territory?" the Moff snorted. "Maybe once, but your time has past. These days, you are little more than an _irritation_. We destroy worlds. You are little more than a _juvenile delinquent_."

A wry, amused smirk passed over Kenobi's lips as he leaned forward, reached out and stroked Tarkin's cheek, the Moff gagging as he did and shivering when he felt _something_ in his mind, wriggling and moving like a forgotten memory that suddenly reawakened, and his body immediately flushed, his blood running hot in his veins with the remembered feel of Kenobi within his mind. Tarkin did what he could to fight it, but the feeling was too strong, his strong will quickly giving way to the craving for submission, his own status as Eriadu's apex predator that the Carrion Plateau had forged him in to fading before the presence of a greater predator. Manka cats may have been the most ferocious creature on Alderaan, but when pit against a Krayt Dragon, it stood no chance.

"What are you building on Geonosis, Wilhuff?" Kenobi asked sweetly, and Tarkin clamped his jaw shut, when he felt himself begin to answer. Obi-Wan just smiled. "I already have a very good idea of what it is the Empire is trying to do." He smirked as he leaned across the desk and ran light fingers down the man's chest, the Governor's eyes shutting tight and his jaw clenched so tightly Obi-Wan felt his teeth may crack, and he _still_ groaned, tortured and reluctant from the touch of the man that controlled him. "The power to destroy a planet..." he drawled softly. "I've seen it. _You_ have it. Maybe the vision was Geonosis, but...I somehow don't think so."

"I didn't _destroy_ Geonosis," Tarkin said slowly between clenched teeth, and Kenobi jumped up to sit on the desk, hie legs dangling over the edge, and Tarkin close enough to touch, the Moff unconsciously laying his hands on the Sith Lord's knees.

"And I didn't destroy Ord Mantel, but the land is covered with ash and flames that _still_ burn, and the seas are still boiling. It's completely uninhabitable, and now, you've done the same thing to that disgusting hive." Kenobi gave him a patronizing glare. "Come now, Tarkin. You and I are both destroyers of worlds. Don't try to excuse the gravity of your actions, _own them_."

"I did what I did because it was _necessary_ ," Tarkin snarled, and the Sith Lord just nodded.

"You did. I did it because my insanity demanded it. Because the lives of my family could only be paid for with a sea of blood and flames..." Obi-Wan shut his eyes and shivered, and Tarkin's hands tightened around the Sith's knees as he struggled to free himself, but to no avail. The worming within his mind had intensified, and he could feel Kenobi slowly slide within him, the Moff's thoughts quickly becoming not his own as the Sith Lord imposed his will upon him. "If you left survivors on Geonosis, I wouldn't be here right now..." Obi-Wan said in response to Tarkin's struggle.

"You said you already know!" Tarkin said accusingly. "If that's true, why are you even here?"

Obi-Wan stroked his chin and frowned when he touched his bare skin and not the beard he had grown so used to. "Unfortunately, Imperial security is good." His eyes narrowed. " _Very_ good, at least where your forces are concentrated. I'm powerful, but I'm just one man. I tried for _years_ to get on to Geonosis, but it wasn't possible." He could feel Tarkin's defiant satisfaction, and quickly broke the man's sudden surge of confidence when he caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, a gentle imitation of a lover's touch, and the Governor almost retched. "Suspecting what's there and _knowing_ are very different things, but more than that, I don't know if what's being attempted is even possible."

"And you _won't know_ ," Tarkin sneered. "You _can't_ , because I don't know!"

"Perhaps not..." Obi-Wan said, cupping the man's face in his hands. "But I believe you'll know someone who _does_ know. And you're going to show him to me."

" _I won't_!" Kenobi smiled.

"You don't have a choice." Tarkin groaned loudly as Obi-Wan pushed within him, pain and pulsing pleasure wracking the Moff's body as the Sith Lord rifled through his mind. He quickly found the thing that Tarkin was trying so desperately to hide, and his shadowy hands pried the Moff's grip from the information that he was seeking. An orbital battle station, positively massive in scale, a testament to Imperial strength, which alone was reason enough to destroy the damnable thing. But that wasn't what he needed. This project was a _weapon_ , at least in theory, but Tarkin seemed to have a healthy amount of scepticism regarding the viability of the weapon, regarding it more of an idea than reality. He hadn't been lying. Tarkin actually had a shocking lack of knowledge on the subject of this weapon, nothing beyond its actual construction. Contrary to what Obi-Wan had been led to believe, the Moff wasn't in charge. He was just an overseer.

But _someone_ was in charge. _Someone_ knew how this thing was supposed to work. Someone knew _how_ it was supposed to.

Tarkin was, _unfortunately_ , terribly intelligent, which made his mind a difficult place to navigate, though Obi-Wan had been there before, had slipped deep within him and read all his thoughts, the shameful feelings of arousal that swept through him when Kenobi had flooded him with pleasure, the grit of his determination when he had inflicted pain, had walked his memories as if they belonged to him, had made the predator of Eriadu call him Master. There was little he could do to keep him out now. Obi-Wan had been here before, and though ten years had changed the landscape of his mind, he knew most of the avenues well. The trick now was to reach in and untangle that which was unknown to him, and the Moff's strong will made that a difficult thing to do.

He ran his thumbs over his high cheekbones, the snaking tendrils of his presence never relenting as they dug into Tarkin's brain. Kenobi needed Tarkin alive and well. He _owned_ Tarkin. The Sith never discarded tools until their use was expended, and Tarkin was still _very_ useful. As such, breaking his mind wasn't an option. The information would have to be given to him willingly, and the mind was a thing easily manipulated, able to be made to do _anything_ when the right pressure was applied.

"Open yourself to me, Wilhuff..." Obi-Wan softly commanded, and the man relaxed for a moment before everything within him revolted against the suggestion. "Answer me."

" _No_ ," was the staunch, stubborn reply, the Sith Lord smirking when the Moff had unwittingly answered his command.

"No what?" Kenobi asked sweetly, and Tarkin's eyes narrowed dangerously, his body tense and shaking.

"No, _Master_." A slow, sinister grin spread across Kenobi's face, and Tarkin's eyes widened when he realized too late what he had said.

"Once again, sweetheart..."

"...Master." Tarkin shivered, gasping as warmth flooded him, and his body immediately relaxed, slumping in the chair as resistance left him.

"Show me everything."

"Yes, Master..." The response was automatic, instinctive, the result of shadowed hands in a mind that touched and caressed as it brainwashed his victim, and slowly, the mess began to untangle, and within Tarkin's mind, Kenobi found what he was after. A single name kept surfacing as he touched the memories of the troubled project. A name that brought with it intense emotion from the Moff, severe dislike, intense disdain and abject loathing, powerful feelings that stoked the Dark Side within Kenobi as he watched. Any man that made Tarkin feel this intense hatred was, at the very least, worth meeting, not only because he was in charge of the battle station's development. It was _his_ idea, his creation, the father to a highly destructive child. Tarkin's loathing of the man explained his lack of faith. Perhaps there was more to this weapon than he had thought. Perhaps a weapon with the capabilities of destroying a planet _was_ possible.

He'd have to ask Director Orson Krennic.

One thing was certain. Obi-Wan lacked the ability to destroy such a thing, if it existed, and the rebellion that Organa was building was still too small, too ill-equipt to deal with something of that size and magnitude. Once he picked apart Krennic's brain, he'd have to see if there was a way to destroy the thing with minimal effort and resources wasted. Perhaps in a few years, they would be able to make a go at something like this battle station, but now, it was too early. The project had been delayed again anyway. They had some time left.

A sharp gasp to his side drew Kenobi's attention away from the bleary-eyed man in his grasp, and golden eyes settled on Moff Ssaria, finally recovered from Kenobi's swift and brutal touch to her mind. She held a blaster in a shaking hand, swallowing hard as she tried to aim at her young officer, but Kenobi just smiled.

"What _are_ you?" she asked, and a hand extended to her, Obi-Wan gripped her mind as well, images from both Tarkin and Ssaria's minds flashing before his eyes in a confusing clash.

"I'm a Lord of the Sith," he drawled, smiling when he felt confusion and a lack of understanding, and her blaster was torn from her hands by the Force, bringing it to rest in Kenobi's grip. "And _you_ , my slave, have served me _very_ well." Pleasure suddenly flooded Ssaria's body, and she planted her hands on the floor, moaning loudly as her mind was forced back into a haze of mindless, savage lust, the intensity so great that she began tearing off her clothing as she writhed upon the ground. She fumbled with the buckle on her belt and gave up quickly when the burning desire increased, slipping her hand into her pants as she struggled to chase satisfaction which eluded her faster the harder she tried.

Tarkin's mental state swiftly shifted, and the hatred of the overly ambitious Krennic quickly faded before the moans and cries of the woman on the floor, bringing another to the Grand Moff's mind, and Kenobi grinned at the familiar face.

_Bo-Katan_.

Obi-Wan had known that she had gotten close to Tarkin, that her ruthless and effective mentality had attracted the equally cold and brutal Tarkin's interest, but he didn't know exactly _how_ much until now. It seemed as though Wilhuff Tarkin was a man after all, complete with brutally repressed man's desires as well, and _he_ coveted the savage and beautiful Mand'alor. It may not have been love, but it _was_ interest. Fascination. _Lust_ , something carnal and primal that he held deep and repressed within him. It wouldn't hurt to stir that particular desire.

"Oh, you love a _Kryze_ girl!" Kenobi chirped, grinning when he felt Tarkin's mind rebel against the intrusion and attempt to force him out. Kenobi allowed it, but he brought with him the attraction to lovely Bo-Katan, the touch of the Dark Side igniting it in a pulse of lust, and with new heat burning inside him, Tarkin shut his eyes, his breathing fast and labored as he struggled to bring himself back into line.

" _I_ loved a Kryze girl..." Kenobi said mournfully, not all of faked, the stab of real pain keen within him as he remembered Satine, her image vivid and bright in his mind. "A passionate, fiery woman, by far the best lover I've ever had." A pained smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he watched the struggle on Tarkin's face. "I imagine her sister is much the same." He scoffed. "Perhaps I'll have that traitor spread her legs for me before I kill her." Rage, cold and intense flashed in Tarkin's eyes, and Kenobi grabbed his chin hard. "And it would be _so easy_ ," the Sith snarled. "I haven't been inside that slut before, but I _will_. It's a simple thing to rob her of her will and make her kneel before me. They _all_ call me Master eventually..."

Rage coursed through Tarkin so strongly that Obi-Wan felt his iron will return, throwing him out of his mind, and he extended a hand to keep the Moff pinned with the Force. Kenobi smirked and pointed to Ssaria upon the floor, moaning and writhing in pleasure against the ground. "Just imagine it..." Obi-Wan drawled. "Moff Bo-Katan Kryze, leader of Imperial Mandalore." He sneered in disgust. "If only her sister could see what that traitor has done to everything she worked so hard to accomplish. _Imperial Mandalore_. She deserves to die for it. _After_ I make her debase herself." He patted Tarkin on the cheek, the Moff's jaw clenching tightly in impotent anger, unable to move or resist. "I'll send you her head when I'm done with her..."

"She is _Mandalorian_!" Tarkin finally snarled. "You will _never_ touch her, she hunts your kind!"

Kenobi leaned in close and smiled. " _Challenge accepted_." He rose from his seat on the desk, silently issuing a command to Ssaria, and the woman crawled to Tarkin, immobilized in the chair, and ran her hands across his things, the man shivering involuntarily.

"Please, do enjoy yourself, Grand Moff," Kenobi drawled as he picked up his officer's cap and put it back on his head. "My treat this time. I'd love to stay, _but_..." He grinned wickedly. "Well, Empire Day is only three days away. I have _a lot_ of work to do." Obi-Wan whistled as he left the room, a smirk on his lips as he felt Tarkin's wide, nervous eyes upon him as he disappeared behind the sliding door.

* * *

It was Empire Day, and Palpatine was freaking out. Ten years as Emperor, ten years since the end of the Clone Wars, the fall of the Republic, the end of the Jedi Order, and the celebration on Coruscant commemorating that day had been impressive, to say the least. All across the galaxy, Imperial might was on full display, a reminder that after ten years, the Empire wasn't only strong, but larger and more secure than before. Zealous supporters of the regime gathered in the streets to take part in the festivities, drinking and carousing as the displays and demonstrations carried on through the day and into early evening. Even the apathetic showed up to witness the spectacle, the likes of which hadn't been seen before. Everyone else...was forced to attend, of course. Everyone was a part of this Empire, whether they liked it or not.

The Imperials, at least, were having a hell of a time. Everyone except the Emperor.

Vader sighed heavily behind his Master, keeping his senses reached out as far as he could to sense any danger that might befall Sidious while he gave a speech to his Empire, the throng gathered to watch in the Imperial Plaza and all around the planet from massive floating broadcast screens and holographic projections. There was nothing, as expected. The security was the best it could be, and Palpatine had his best people gathered around him. No harm would come to the Emperor. It never did. But that was never the point of Empire Day. The annual celebration saw protests and attacks in systems more distant from the Core and Mandalore, the seat of Imperial power and the burning heart of the Empire in the Outer Rim, but they were never significant, never worth discussion.

No, the trouble was that the day had passed without incident, had faded into afternoon and then well into evening, and they had heard _nothing_ from Darth Lumis, received no yearly message, sensed nothing of his presence. His... _gifts_ were often gruesome, but they were also always almost playful. His goal, it seemed, wasn't to destroy his former Master, but to irritate him, to make him paranoid, to create an environment of tension so thick that Sidious would be sent jumping at shadows.

If this was the goal, then it had been a great success.

Vader's gaze shifted away from the Emperor and to the others on the balcony, Palpatine's closest circle. Maul was there, of course, his eyes downcast, a slight tremor in his hand that hadn't seemed to stop since the year before when the pitiful Zabrak had been personally handled by Darth Lumis, undoing nearly a decade of Sidious' hard work on the man in an instant. Vader would have felt sorry for the man if he weren't such a fool. For the past year, Maul was clutched in the tight, torturous grip of Sidious as the Sith Master worked to bend Maul back into the creature he had used to be, the torture so intense that the Zabrak didn't simply bent, but broke, over and over again as his cries for mercy fell on deaf ears.

For a time, Vader had wondered why Sidious kept Maul around when Darth Lumis sat deep inside the apprentice's mind, laughing as the Zabrak yielded time and time again to the shadow of his hand within him, frantically rubbing at the bitter reminder of his grave mistake upon his hand, the scars left by the Duchess Satine in her final moments, the one thing that held back the tide of darkness that would come to consume her Sith lover and leave Maul a broken, willing slave. The answer came to him one night as the two trained together, Maul savage and focused in the pure physical strength afforded to him, a creature of instinct driven to wrathful excellence, so long as his shattered mind stayed out of the way. Maul _knew things_ , Vader realized after they had dropped their weapons, after Maul had quietly sat next to his companion and softly spoke about his time in Lumis' care, his hand trembling and his voice shaking, desperate to speak to someone, _anyone_ who would understand, and like Maul, Vader had been made half a man by the merciless Lumis. There was a kinship there, even though they competed for the favor of their Master. Even if Maul was a fool. Even if Vader's existence was a solitary one, cut off from the world by the suit he was forced to wear, an armor as much as a prison, much like the Dark Side itself.

He had spent nearly a year in Lumis' tender care, a year that proved to be formative to Darth Lumis. The year he spent in transition from apprentice to Master, a year that forged him in the fires of insanity, only to see him emerge with cold ice in his veins. Vader knew that Lumis had attained Mastery, but he had only seen the final product, the end result of the man's transformation. Maul had seen the _process_ , and in such, he held the key to Lumis' defeat.

Maul had seen the Sith Lord corrupt the living with a single touch, expose them to the Dark Side and warp them into something dark, something twisted, something ferocious and enslaved to the will of their creator. He had been there when Lumis had killed the Nightsister witch Mother Talzin, Maul's own mother, a woman that Sidious himself had once looked at to serve as his own apprentice because of the terrible and unusual powers she commanded, a woman who had grown to be a threat, one that Darth Sidious wouldn't deal with himself in the event that something go horribly wrong.

But most importantly, Maul had watched Lumis' transformation, saw him develop from broken apprentice to terrifying Master, and had been forced to live simply so he could endure Kenobi's frightful wrath. Maul had been the catalyst to Lumis' swift rise to power, a process that Sidious hadn't seen and had no idea was even occurring, the Dark Side within his wayward apprentice growing ever stronger and concealed by madness, a man teetering on the brink in actuality finding a beautiful balance looking over the edge into oblivion. Maul had broken Lumis once. Sidious was sure he could make the Zabrak break him again. That he had _two_ Masters seemed inconsequential. Fear of Sidious kept Maul from acting against him, and fear of Lumis kept him from becoming too strong, something Sidious was cautious of ever since Lumis had gone wrong.

Maul had come to cling to Vader, especially in the year since they had tracked Jedi Master Luminara to Ord Mynoch. When Kenobi had slipped in like a shadow and saved her life, a risky move that felt shockingly impulsive for the careful and methodical Darth Lumis. It wasn't out of any fear of Sidious, any attempt to find a reprieve from the cruelty of his treatment. Maul actually seemed to _revel_ in the cruelty, gladly accepted it, used the pain and the hatred that stemmed from the torture to ground himself and ease the touch of Lumis within him. No, the Zabrak clung to Vader because, in many ways, they were the same. Their lives were spent in obsession with Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi turned Sith Lord that ruined everything they should have been, everything they _could have_ been, just as they had ruined Kenobi in return. They recognized Lumis as a Master, understood the danger he possessed, something that Sidious refused to accept, and in such, Maul and Vader had grown close.

Vader tore his gaze from Maul and looked at the others on the balcony, the most honored and trusted of the Emperor's inner circle, for the most part. Tarkin stood back beside the door away from the railing of the balcony and pressed tellingly close to Moff Bo-Katan Kryze. Tarkin had arrived a few days earlier in a state of panic, a rare thing for the stoic man, the current of paranoia that ran through him suddenly coming front and center as he told Palpatine and Vader in a closed meeting about his brush with Obi-Wan Kenobi. The renegade Sith had infiltrated the Empire and made his way right into Tarkin's home in search of what was happening on Geonosis. Tarkin claimed that Kenobi knew a great deal, that this secret project was no secret to the perceptive man, but he was looking for answers all the same, and he had gone to Tarkin in search of them.

With Kenobi's infiltration of Tarkin's mind, Palpatine jumped to secure his assets, moving swiftly to bring those of vast importance close to him, including Moff Bo-Katan on Tarkin's personal request, not just because Kenobi had threatened her life and her death would see the entire Outer Rim destabilized, but because she was important to the Grand Moff. And the others...

Flanked by two Inquisitors stood Orson Krennic, the man an odd mix of sullen and elated, honored to be standing in the Emperor's favor, but his skin crawling from having to be so close to Tarkin. As the man in charge of the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station, Krennic was almost certainly Kenobi's next target, which meant that the man had to be defended at all costs if the integrity of the project was to be maintained. Krennic had insisted that he was close to a breakthrough, even more so now than ever after he had recruited his old friend Galen Erso to the project to take over as the lead scientist behind the weapon system. Erso was under tight security as it was, and Palpatine saw no need to bring him to Coruscant as well. The man was of more use to him working in his labs, and it seemed unlikely that Kenobi would know about him as well, since his recruitment had only just reached Tarkin's attention.

The Grand Inquisitor stood in the back in the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his senses alert for any danger. The Pau'an would have been the only non-human in attendance save for Maul, had Palpatine not summoned another to him for the Empire Day festivities, not just to consult with him, but to promote him to the rank of Admiral, making him the highest ranking non-human in the Empire, a testament to the man's genius cunning in a decidedly xenophobic regime. It made him a man to be respected and feared. The Force chose those with sensitivity to it sparingly, making any with talent to be noticed and elevated by the Sith Lord, but this man elevated _himself_ , drawing even the Emperor's attention to him through his continued success and impeccable record in service to the Empire, not as an indifferent commander, but as a brilliant strategist.

At just under six feet, Admiral Thrawn would have been unimposing if he were a human, but the man's blue skin and red eyes typical of the Chiss were striking and intimidating, lending him a sense of exotic command that came from being of a species that was hardly seen in the galaxy. Beside their unique coloring, the Chiss appeared indistinguishable from humans, which only seemed to draw more attention to him, a fact that Thrawn used to the best of his advantage in his command. Vader had never met the man before this day, and he had yet to understand why Palpatine had elevated this man so quickly, but he suspected he would come know the reasons soon enough.

The Emperor's speech concluded, he raised his arms to the roaring cheers of the people below, the celebrations commencing as a squadron of TIE Fighters flew across the sky, the ships howling as they executed complicated maneuvers to the delight of the people, and Palpatine stepped back from the edge of the balcony to stand in silence between Vader and Maul, silent as he watched the air show. He was tense, the fall of his robes unable to conceal just how tight his shoulders were. Vader tried to ignore him as he turned his gaze skyward to the ships above, starfighters and corvettes and carriers all flying by in practiced formation, all for the effect of showing off the might of the Empire. Vader's love of flying hadn't waned at all since he had been nothing but a slave boy on Tatooine, a passion that Sidious had tried, and failed, to kill, a pesky remainder of his old life as Anakin Skywalker that stubbornly refused to die. He didn't get to fly much these days, and when he did, it was more for utility than for the pleasure of it, but he still found it exhilarating

A fleet of massive carriers flew slow and heavy across the night, blanketing the sky in a cloak of durrasteel as they flew side by side, circling around in a wide loop to return the way they came, the wide loading ramps extending behind them, and Vader felt a tightness in his chest the same moment as Maul and Sidious tensed, followed quickly by the Inquisitors behind them a moment later. Something was wrong. As they looked on, panic gripped the people behind them as _something_ was pushed out of the carriers, small things that fell toward the ground like a leaves in a windstorm, the little specks filling the air like a dark cloud. Whatever it was, it wasn't large, but the sheer volume far made up for it, and slowly, the people's cheers turned into screams.

The Royal Guard quickly grabbed Palpatine and rushed him under the cover of the palace, the others on the balcony quickly following suit as the dark night seemed to become even darker as whatever it was being pushed from the carriers fell to the ground. The palace sounded as if it was being bombarded with rocks as the debris struck the roof, and with a sick, crunching thud, something struck the patio of the balcony. Blasters whining as they were primed and the hum of lightsabers filled the air as everyone save for the Emperor drew their weapons and pointed them at the unknown thing upon the ground. Slowly, Maul stalked forward, his saber shaking in his trembling hand, and he put his foot in the doorway and leaned forward, his caution fading away to confusion as he drew up and looked back at the group.

"It's..." he said hesitantly. "It's a Geonosian."

" _...what_?" Tarkin gasped in disbelief, rushing out to the balcony and observing the body on the ground, the others following closely behind him. It _was_ a Geonosian, its body sickly pale, its hard exoskeleton fractured and broken from the fall from the sky. It wasn't possible. The Geonosians were dead, _all of them_ , their bodies dumped into the volcanic rivers of Maryx Minor, the evidence of the genocide destroyed, the-

Tarkin sucked in a sharp breath as his heart seemed to stop in his chest, the color draining from his face, and Bo-Katan had to help him stay on his feet. Moff Ssaria had ensured their bodies were disposed of, the method in hindsight... _impractical_ and time consuming, the location of the drop suggested by _Obi-Wan_. He looked up out over the city and down into the Imperial Plaza below to see the ground _covered_ with the insect corpses. Hundreds of them. But there were _billions_ of the creatures on Geonosis, and Tarkin had the sinking suspicion that they had all found their way to Coruscant to be scattered over the city. The evidence of genocide meant to be destroyed and now forced out into the open. It was a _disaster_.

"Happy Empire Day!" a voice from behind them called, and they all quickly reeled around to gaze into the palace, the room lit with the glow of the holoprojector as the image of Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, a smirk on his clean shaven face, and slowly, the group approached, their rage growing with each step. Maul snarled in fury at the image, blind rage overtaking him for a moment when he saw not his Master, but Obi-Wan Kenobi, the very image of the Jedi Padawan that had defeated him so long ago. Krennic held back, uncertain of what to even make of this, his Inquisitor guards standing beside him, their lightsabers clutched in tight hands as they looked fearfully at the Sith Lord. Thrawn simply...watched, curious as he assessed the young man before him, a man he knew was a danger, and was quickly understanding why.

" _Kenobi_..." Sidious growled dangerously, pushing past everyone else to stand before his former apprentice, his hands folded in the sleeves of his robes. Obi-Wan flashed him a grin.

"You know, I _never_ get so much as a thank you for all the gifts I've given you, so I thought for the ten year anniversary of your glorious rule, I'd come to you to get my thanks." He grinned. "And I _did_ go all out for you this year. Congratulations on your accomplishment, my Emperor! Truly, this is an achievement!"

"I'll give you your thanks," Sidious hissed, pointing a commanding finger to the Inquisitors. "Trace the signal! _Find him_!"

"There's no need for that!" Obi-Wan said, his hands raised, the Inquisitors quickly tapping the comlink controls to assess the origin of the call. A moment later, and one of the Inquisitors pushed the blast shied of their helmet up and looked at the Emperor in confusion.

"My Lord, it's...coming from beneath us," he said in disbelief. "Not in the palace, but... _far_ beneath us."

Sidious held his breath as he gazed at the smug Sith before him. The Imperial Palace, formerly the Jedi Temple, had been built on top of an ancient Sith shrine, a sacred place from which the Dark Side pooled and slowly infected the Jedi over the course of a thousand years. It still existed, a secret place that Sidious held dear, a place where not even Vader had stepped, or even knew about, a place reserved for him alone. But Lumis knew about it. _Lumis_ had been there several times in his apprenticeship, knew how to get there, knew the many hidden paths that lead to the dark center of Coruscant. And he was there now. He could _feel it_. There was no way to get him without revealing the location of this secret place, a place that none but him were worthy of. He grit his teeth. Lumis had tied his hands. Nobody knew where to look, and even if they did, they would be unable to gain entrance without him.

"I see you shaved," Bo-Katan sneered, stepping forward and putting her hands on her hips. "You didn't look like enough of a child, Obi-Wan?" Kenobi smiled and stroked his bare cheeks.

"Do you like it?" he asked. "Satine always said the beard hid my handsome face."

"There's no accounting for my sister's bad taste, you may as well grow it back so we don't have to look at you," she sneered, and Kenobi chuckled, bright golden eyes looking on in amusement as Tarkin took Bo-Katan's hand and tried to pull the furious woman away, the Grand Moff's face near panic in the presence of the man that had raped his mind.

"It grows much slower than I remember," Obi-Wan grumbled, stroking his chin as he frowned. "But for you, my little Mand'alor, I'll grow it back out. Consider it my gift to you. I wouldn't want you looking away from me when I finally get between your legs and make you mine." He grinned wickedly when the woman crossed her arms and stared at him, unamused as she accepted the challenge. "Right before I kill you. _Imperial Mandalore_." He scoffed. "Your people will be strong again under my rule."

"And yet _none of them_ call for the Shadow King," Bo-Katan snapped. "Come and try, Kenobi and see what happens. My people have been hunting you Jedi since your pitiful Order existed. I'm itchy to finish the job."

"My, you _do_ like to talk dirty, don't you, slut?" His eyes drifted back to Sidious when Tarkin yanked the Mandalorian out of view. "I know what it is you're doing, _Sheev_ ," Kenobi hissed, the Emperor's hand clenching at the use of his first name. "Let me give you some professional advice. Kill enough people, and you'll run out of space to hide the bodies." He grinned brightly. "Like Geonosis! _Such_ a shame about that insect hive. I meant to bring enough for each person on Coruscant to commemorate a decade of Imperial rule with the body of one of your genocide victims, but..." He shrugged. "There are more people on Coruscant than there were Geonosians."

"You can't hide from me forever, Obi-Wan. Your games are coming to an end."

"Yes, I suspect they are," he said, a wry smile on his lips, but the amusement in his eyes had hardened, becoming cold and furious. "But until that day comes, _thank you_. Empire Day _is_ my favorite day, and I'll continue to celebrate." He grinned. "Happy Empire Day, my old friend."

The com blinked off, leaving the room in dim lighting, and Sidious reeled on the Grand Inquisitor, his hand pointed out the door toward the balcony. " _Get that mess cleaned up_ ," he snarled, and the Inquisitors swiftly moved to do as commanded. Taking a few deep breaths, his burning rage slowly settling into cold fury that would later be taken out on Vader and Maul, Palpatine turned to face the Chiss Admiral. "Did you see what you needed?"

Thrawn brought his hand to his face, slowly stroking his chin as he considered what he had seen. "Your opponent is indelibly intelligent," the man drawled slowly, his voice a commanding, almost chilling monotone that immediately drew attention to him, his red eyes drifting over the occupants in the room. "He has shown himself to be both bold and cautious, an opportunist that chooses his movements well and patiently. A thing your subordinates might learn from." Vader felt himself burn. It was an insult, a purposeful criticism of those who had been hunting Kenobi for years. This _insignificant_ simply didn't understand, and when met with the Force, this smug alien would meet his end as well.

"And you believe you can do better?" Vader snarled, and Thrawn folded his hands behind his back.

"Yes," was his simple reply. "Lord Vader, you and Governor Tarkin have been hunting this... _Obi-Wan_ for years on end without success, from what I understand. This fight is too close to you. Too... _personal_. He is using this to his advantage."

"He is Force sensitive, Admiral," Tarkin said, more harsh, more strained than intended, his hand clasped defensively upon the Mandalorian woman's shoulder. "He can control the minds of others."

"The Force..." he drawled softly. "I've been given to understand there are ways to disrupt such talents."

"None that work," Tarkin hissed, and the ghost of a smile tugged at the edge of the Chiss' thin lips.

"None that have been effectively implemented. All men have weaknesses, Governor, and I exploit weaknesses." His red gaze shifted to the Emperor. "My methods aren't the heavy handed brutality of Lord Vader, but I think you will find them more effective."

"You think you are superior?" Vader growled, stomping up to tower over the Admiral, but Thrawn simply looked at him with indifference.

"No. But I believe I am more... _creative_." He drew up to his full height and looked at Sidious. "Emperor Palpatine. I need to know _everything_ about this Obi-Wan Kenobi. If I can understand his background, where he comes from, how he thinks, what he holds dear, then I can take him apart piece by piece."

"That's been a poor idea in the past," Vader snarled, and the Chiss fell silent, considered, and nodded.

"I must know about that as well. This man is a strategist. A tactician. A...worthy adversary, and an obviously dangerous one. But he is _not_ unbeatable. Lord Vader." Vader growled deeply as he looked down at the man, expecting to see resentment, superiority, but instead he found... _nothing_. Just curiosity and a need to learn. "I'm understood that you have some understanding of the Force, as well as a long history with Kenobi."

"That can be said." Thrawn nodded, and Vader could feel the man's clever mind turning, patient and curious, not a hunter, but a scholar, one with an interest not in the individual, but in the forces that drove them. To the Chiss, each failure was a learning opportunity, each error a lesson, unless it went unheeded, in which it became a mistake. Thrawn didn't make mistakes. He _learned_. He _planned_. He _executed_.

Thrawn looked up into the face of the Dark Lord, unafraid and interested. "Tell me _everything_."


	11. Friends and Lovers - 8 BBY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Psst! You guys are awesome. That is all.
> 
> No, I lied, that's not all! After this, there's only two more chapters of this part, and then this extended interlude is done and we get to dive into the meat and potatoes of Part 3. I've been having a blast writing these. It seems like you guys have enjoyed reading them, so all is right with the world. By the way, can you tell I'm setting up for some shit? Because I am. Also, I don;t think the next chapter will be ready by tomorrow, but it might be, and I think you're going to love it. Peace out! Enjoy this mess here!

Obi-Wan walked slowly beside his lover, her pale, delicate hand in his own as they made their way along the banks of the deep pools from which the waterfalls of Akar Kesh flowed into. Tython was beautiful, temperate and lush and orbited by two moons, Ashla and Bogan, the representatives of the light and dark sides of the Force on which the ancient Jedi based their earliest Code. It was here that the Jedi Order first came to be, here where the Dark Side was first felt, here where the ancient battle between the light and the dark began, long before there were Sith and Jedi to bring that war to head. And it was here that he took his lover, so that they may look together upon one of the first of the Jedi Temples, a place of peace and tranquility surrounded by waterfalls and rivers, the light and dark moons reflecting beautifully off the clear, flowing water.

"This place," Obi-Wan softly explained, "is dangerous to those who cannot sense the Force, which is why the Jedi originally left."

"It's a good thing I have you to protect me," Satine said softly, leaning her head against the Sith Lord's shoulder, sighing softly as she looked at the moons. "And the entire Code of the Jedi was based on those?" she asked, pointing into the sky, and Kenobi nodded, chuckling softly and kissing her cheek when she wrinkled her nose. "It seems a silly thing to base a religion on."

" _Well_...it's said they came to understand the nature of the Dark Side and the Light by observing their dark and light moons. That there was a dual aspect to the Force just as there was in the world around them." Obi-Wan kissed the Mand'alor, deep and hungry, the powerful pulling of the Force around him making his blood boil with the passion he so readily embraced. "I'm going to bring the kids here one day. The lessons here are good ones for them to learn."

"And where do the Sith fit in?" she asked, drawing her finger along his chest. "You said you'd take me to a Sith world, Obi."

"I said I'd take you _everywhere_ , my Queen," Kenobi said, drawing the woman against him and kissing at her neck. "And I will. Anywhere you want, this galaxy is yours, it has _always_ been yours." He smiled and took her hands in his own, pulling her out to step into the cool, clear waters of the pool. "I'll give it all to you, my love, all of it."

Satine smiled and stroked his cheek, the Sith Lord leaning into her touch with a sigh of satisfaction. "Isn't the Dark Side stronger?" she asked. "Isn't that how you were going to raise our son?"

"Well, _yes_ , but..." Obi-Wan sighed, running the pale blond strands of Satine's hair through his fingers. "I promised to let them forge their own way. They're protected by the Force, so the Force should guide them down the path it has set for them. I'm just there to see them safely down that road, regardless of which they take." Kenobi kissed the pale cheek, cold in the gentle breeze and the spraying mist of the nearby waterfall. "I will teach them of light and dark so they may understand both. The Dark Side is stronger, yes, but the Light gives one the temperance needed to persevere, to protect, to withstand the destructive power of the darkness and resist being consumed as I nearly was."

"Sounds to me like understanding both is where real power lies."

"...perhaps." He stroked her neck and trailed his fingers down her body, his hand coming to rest on her thin hip. "The Sith _are_ power, Satine No Jedi will ever wield the dominion we do, will never seize control the way we will, which is why the Jedi are dead now. Without the Dark Side, they are slaves."

"Without the light, the Sith are unspeakably cruel," Satine said sweetly, laying her delicate hand over his heart. "But there's always been light inside you."

" _You've_ always been my light, my love." A sad smile crossed Satine's lips, and she looked away from him, her hand sliding off his chest, and Obi-Wan instinctively gripped her tighter.

"If that's true," the Mand'alor said softly, "then why have you been unfaithful to me?"

Pain lanced through his chest searing and cold all at once, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked into her ice blue eyes. "I-I didn't!" Obi-Wan protested, his fingers digging into her hip when he felt her backing away from him, and he couldn't keep her in his grasp. "I would _never_ , Satine, you're the only woman I have ever loved, I-"

"Padmé Amidala," she said softly, and the Sith Lord stopped breathing, his heart in his throat. "And now, Luminara Unduli. Not to mention any of the _hundreds_ of women you have spent single nights with." Obi-Wan cast his eyes down toward his feet, unable to even look at her. "And now, you've even replaced _our son_ with the children of one of your lovers. They aren't even _your_ children."

"No, they _are_ mine!" Kenobi cried desperately, quickly looking up to meet Satine's cold eyes and expressionless pale face. "Not _biologically_ , perhaps, but I could _never_ be part of making another child, Satine, my true-born child could _only_ ever be yours!" His hands began to shake when the woman remained unmoved, cold and still as a statue. "Luke and Leia are _my children_ , please, you should understand, you are _Mandalorian_! I raised them to be children of Mandalore to honor _you_ , my love!"

"I wonder..." she quietly mused. "They were born less than a year after I died. Did you even wait until my body was cold before you rushed into Padmé's arms? She _is_ a Queen, and _very_ beautiful, and you have always had something of a fondness for her." Her eyes fell on him, and he felt a rush of pain, the waterfalls behind her running red with blood, the lush, beautiful forests reduced to blackened ash. "Was I so easy to forget, Obi-Wan?"

" _No_!" he cried desperately, reaching out to the woman, his eyes focusing on the bloody hole in her stomach. "There isn't a moment of my life I don't feel you with me, and it _hurts_! There is a hole within me where you used to be, Satine, and it is _always bleeding_."

"If it weren't for you," she said softly, "I'd still be alive." Obi-Wan couldn't find the strength within himself to deny the truth she spoke. "If you'd been faster, if you'd been stronger, we would be _together_." Her eyes narrowed, bright blue giving way to the milky pallor of death. " _You_ killed me, Obi-Wan."

"Why did you kill me?" The voice was different, higher in pitch, but no less familiar, and no less hateful, and Kenobi quickly turned to face Padmé, pale and cold, her face filled with shock and disbelief. Obi-Wan quickly backed away from the women, his footing lost in his haste, and he fell back into the pool, his dark robes quickly saturating with blood.

"For Luke and Leia," he whispered, his voice shaking and unsteady as his body was wracked with pain. "I did it for them, I promised they'd be safe, and this was the only way..."

"I gave up everything for them," Padmé said, her voice suddenly warm and sweet and gentle, just as he remembered, and a cold shill ran up his spine. "I left my husband to protect them. I _loved_ Anakin, and that love was ruined because of you. I only had to defend my children because your touch is black and _poisonous_." Obi-Wan could say nothing, _do_ nothing as the ghostly pale woman drew closer. "Did I have to die? Did you have to kill me? I gave them everything, I abandoned my old life, I moved in with the _enemy_ for them. Did I have to give them my life as well? Did I deserve to never see my children grow up?"

"I'm sorry..." Kenobi gasped, looking up at the woman who looked _so much_ like his sweet Leia. "I'm sorry, it was the only way I knew how to keep them safe!"

"You _betrayed me_."

"No! No, I kept my promise!" Kenobi shouted, rising to his feet and staggering back when the women advanced, blood driping off his robes and into the thick, gruesome pool he stood in. "I promised to keep them safe, no matter the cost, and they are _safe_! The cost..." He faltered, swallowing hard. "The cost just happened to be _you_ , and I made the choice to pay it!"

"Why did you kill us, Obi-Wan?" both woman asked in unison, their skin pale and quickly decaying as he looked upon them, and his hands flew to his ears, his eyes tightly shut as the night filled with screams.

Kenobi woke up with a jolt to the sound of screams, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room lit only by moonlight that poured in through the window. Within a moment, he threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed, his hands frantically running over his bare chest as he tried to wipe away the blood that he still could feel hot and sticky on his skin. It was _real_. It had to be, it _felt_ real. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of the sweet, melodic laughter of Satine, the sound so close, so familiar, even though he hadn't truly heard it in over ten years. There was nobody there.

He snarled in frustration and reeled around at the call of his name, the feel of light fingers brushing his shoulder, the warmth radiating from deep inside his chest when he felt her near, the feral growls of the Dark Side rising as his blood pumped with arousal at the sound of her breathless moans. He put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tight. It wasn't real, he knew, but it seemed like it was, _felt_ like it was, as it always did when he slept. The dreams always came, always haunted him, not with visions that he gladly welcomed when he lost himself within the Force during his meditations, but with nightmares that made him wake screaming in a cold sweat and vowing to never sleep again. But sometimes, he had to.

"Obi-Wan." The voice was calm, cool, insistent, heard not with his ears, but within his mind, and he tried to push it away. He would hear no more ghosts tonight. "Obi-Wan." _Again_. This time, Kenobi's eyes flew open, his golden gaze furious as it darted around the room, and he immediately relaxed when he saw the woman sitting up in his bed, the sheet clutched to her bare chest and her face concerned. She extended a hand toward him. "Come back to bed, Obi-Wan."

"I _saw her_ ," he snarled between clenched teeth. "She was _here_ , she was _real_ , it was-"

"A nightmare," the woman finished, the calm, soothing tone in her voice and her touch upon his mind through the Force instantly easing him. "It's over now. Come back to bed." He looked at her for a long moment, his perfect sight in the dark allowing him to see the diamond shaped tattoos on her chin, the soft lines of her face, the concern in her blue eyes, and with a sigh, he moved toward her, took her hand in his, and crawled back into bed, his arms wrapping possessively around her from behind and pulling her close. She allowed it, only moving to reach up behind her and run her fingers through his hair when the Sith pressed his lips to her neck.

Obi-Wan felt... _guilty_ , laying here with a Jedi Master in his arms, the second real lover of his since Satine had died. She _was_ dead, but it still felt like betrayal every time he and Luminara met, every time they managed to escape to safety, every time they found a cave, a camp, a room, anywhere that _wasn't_ the _Umbra_ where they could breathlessly become one, not just through their bond in the Force, but with their bodies as well. But he had _missed it_ , the warmth of a real connection, a bond forged through time and care and friendship, a thing that had been absent from his life for so, _so_ long. _Yes_ , he shared a connection with Cody and Grandmaster Rancor Yoda, but that was _different_. This was a felling of peace and ease that he had only ever felt with Satine, and once again with Padmé, and he _needed it_.

He didn't tangle with Luminara often. When he first saved her two years ago, they both understood the dangers of being together for even a little bit. Obi-Wan was an expert at avoiding detection, a Sith Lord that could cloak his presence in the Force so perfectly that _nobody_ could feel him. But Luminara was a Jedi Master, and had been a Jedi nearly her entire life. She was a bright spot in the Force, a beacon in the darkness that attracted the attention of the Inquisitors like moths to a flame. The entire Empire was looking for her, which meant it was only a matter of time before they found her, either through their network of spies, or through Luminara's own inability to turn a blind eye toward the suffering that surrounded her. Involving her with Organa's movement would just see his rebellion ended before it could even begin, and bringing her with him would only draw attention to himself and, by extension, the twins, which was unacceptable.

They worked out a plan, something they felt could work for at least a little while, until the Empire found itself dealing with an active rebellion, until Luminara could be openly supported by a rebel fleet in a galaxy at war against Palpatine. Luminara would keep hidden as long as she could, and when it seemed like the Empire found her, she'd run and begin the process again. Until she couldn't escape. Until they were on her trail and she couldn't evade them. _Then_ she'd call Obi-Wan, and the Sith Lord would arrive to help, spirit her away from Vader and the Inquisitors, and they'd go to ground, hiding for weeks at a time while they waited to be certain the Imperials lost the trail, and then they'd part, going for months and months at a time without seeing each other.

It was an easy thing for them to become lovers, though Luminara had initially resisted it, the Jedi staunchly clinging to the remnants of her Code just so she could feel like a Jedi instead of a fugitive. Obi-Wan had argued that the whole relationship thing wasn't even _in_ the Code, simply a rule that had been added on later, a remnant of a time when the Sith were strong, and the threat of losing Jedi to the Dark Side was high. It turned out that he _didn't_ need to argue that point, as Luminara had actually agreed, of the belief that emotions and bonds _were_ important, essential, even, to be an effective Jedi. What made them _Jedi_ was their ability to let go of those bonds when duty called, when the time was right, a feat much more difficult when those bonds were in place, but successfully able to do so made the Jedi all the stronger for it.

And, as it so happened, Luminara was _not_ a stranger to sex, a thing that _still_ baffled Obi-Wan. After all, _they_ had never tangled before, and they had several opportunities to back when they were young. Perhaps, as he had long suspected, she was simply drawn to older, wiser men. But he'd never know, since the woman kept her silence well.

It had been two years since they became lovers, and of those years, they had, perhaps, been together a total of three weeks at most. This was only the third time Kenobi had to save her, which, all things considered, wasn't bad when the entire Empire was hunting for you. They were hunting for _him_ as well, but Obi-Wan was _much_ better at hiding. _He_ wasn't going around pointlessly helping people, and Luminara, quite frankly, was a less dangerous target for the Inquisitors. They were trained to hunt Jedi, not Sith Lords, and their resources _were_ limited. They wouldn't be wasting their Inquisitors by pointlessly throwing them at Obi-Wan, if ever they could find him.

But then last year, things changed. Suddenly, the Inquisitors became more effective, not in chasing Luminara, but in finding her. She would arrive on a new planet after being discovered elsewhere, only for the Empire to show up mere days later, and she'd be on the run again. Qui-Gon _did_ try to guide her, help her escape their notice, tried to tell her where to go, but it didn't seem to matter, as the result was _always_ the same. Evading them wasn't difficult, but _keeping_ away was becoming impossible, and it didn't bode well to Obi-Wan. Something had changed. Something new was in play, and Obi-Wan had _no_ idea what it was. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. But that was a thing he could deal with later. For now...

He kissed Luminara's neck, nipping at the green skin and delighting as the woman gasped, wriggling in his grip. "Did Qui-Gon hold you like this?" he asked softly, and he could _feel_ the woman roll her eyes.

"Qui-Gon and I agreed to _never_ answer any of your questions regarding the nature of our relationship. We like keeping you guessing."

Obi-Wan scoffed. "You two are awful."

"And _you_ , my dear, are a child," she said playfully, turning in his arms and tapping his nose, smiling softly at the pouting Sith Lord.

"I am _not_ a child."

"You look it," Luminara quipped. "And I just turned fifty. _You're_ the one who's bedding the elderly, not me."

"I'll be fifty next year," Kenobi grumbled, and Luminara smiled softly and nestled against him, his carefree, easy attitude covering up the fact that his heart was still pounding.

"Face it, Obi–Wan, you look like a Padawan." She stroked his face when she felt another wave of pain rush through the Sith Lord, but she said nothing. There was nothing he _could_ say that they hadn't said before. He knew what he needed to do to make the nightmares stop and the pain end, but the Sith Lord wouldn't do it, _couldn't_ do it, and it certainly wouldn't be Luminara that could change him. She worried for her friend, felt the empathetic pangs within herself when she saw him awaken like this, but there was nothing to be done. It was the path Obi-Wan had chosen, and continued to choose.

She let the feeling go.

"Today's the day Mandalore burned..." Obi-Wan said softly after a long, still silence. "Twelve years ago. It feels like it just happened." A sad smile touched Luminara's lips as she stroked the fine hair of his beard.

"That accounts for the intensity of the nightmares, but this isn't the only night you've had them."

"No, it isn't." Kenobi ran his fingers across her back, lightly touching the scars that marked her skin, most old, but some were new, and they felt unfamiliar beneath his hands. Though they didn't see each other much, Obi-Wan had committed every scar she had to his memory, a thing that he never needed to do with his other lovers. Padmé had none, and Satine just had the one on her hip, the result of one of his blunders when he had been tasked with protecting her on his mission to Mandalore so long ago. He had saved her that time, _yes_ , carried her for miles and miles to safety, only to drop her, the resulting scar a stain on her otherwise flawless skin.

"The Dark Side keeps the wound open," Obi-Wan quietly confessed. "It keeps it from healing, because the more it bleeds, the more powerful I become."

"It's a painful path you've chosen," the Jedi said softly. "We were always taught that the Dark Side was the quick and easy path, but we didn't see the personal toll it took on a person. Your actions have been easy to dismiss as evil." Kenobi scoffed, his glowing gaze turning away from the Mirialan, and her long fingers upon directed his attention back to her. "They _are_ evil, whatever your intentions may be."

"Evil is such a _simplistic_ concept," he said easily, but the woman shook her head.

"No, it isn't. There is right and wrong in the world, Obi-Wan. That's not to say your path was easy, because it wasn't. You suffer pain and grief in exchange for power, that isn't an easy thing to do, even if the power comes quickly." Her gaze hardened as she looked at him. "But that doesn't excuse what you've done."

"And yet, here you are," Obi-Wan lazily drawled, dragging her hips against his own and smirking when the woman gasped and flushed. "Luminara Unduli, Jedi Master, in bed with a Lord of the Sith."

"I've always believed in redemption," she said frankly, laying a hand over the Sith's heart. "Even for you, oh mighty Darth Lumis. You were a Jedi once. There's still light inside you. I've seen it. I _feel_ it."

"Not everyone can be saved, Luminara," Kenobi growled softly. "Not everyone _wants_ to be saved, and I certainly don't. I don't regret what I've done."

"And yet, you warned us about your Master's plans and helped _save_ Jedi." Luminara lightly touched his face when he looked away, and Kenobi couldn't help but think about Luke and Leia, his children so different from what he had originally thought his own child would grow up to be. "I think, Obi-Wan, the Force will save you. You're corrupted, yes, and perhaps you may never return to the light, but even dark creatures can do good things. I believe that."

"Foolish Jedi nonsense..." Kenobi grumbled, and Luminara laughed softly and nestled closer to him.

"Be that as it may, _I_ am not plagued by nightmares like you."

"Not even about the Jedi?" Luminara sighed softly as she laid her head upon his chest and lightly kissed at the long, black scar.

"I confess, there are nights it plagues me. It was very difficult in the beginning. But...I am a Jedi Master. Even this must be let go so we may move forwards. The time of the Jedi is over. I have accepted that."

Kenobi smiled softly and tilted her chin up to meet her gaze and kissed her, slow and chaste and gentle, and his lover responded in kind. "You're brave, Luminara..."

"And I still have hope for you," she said softly. "Just as I still have hope for Anakin." Kenobi tensed, and the Jedi ran her fingers across the scar that Skywalker had put upon his chest. "He's in there somewhere, Obi-Wan, just as you were inside Darth Lumis. I know you didn't know him, but Anakin was a good man once. A brave man. More than just strong, and I don't think the Jedi ever truly realized that."

"...Sidious did."

"Yes, he did, and he played his hand _very_ well." Luminara drew closer to the Sith Lord. It was suddenly _very_ cold. "Do you think Anakin can be saved?"

"He _murdered_ Quinlan, Luminara, he-"

"I didn't ask if you'd forgive him, Obi-Wan," the Mirialan said quickly. "He's done _unforgivable_ things, the same as you. I'm asking if he can somehow find redemption, since you seem to be seeking it."

"I've never considered it," Obi-Wan said quickly, and he found himself pushed on his back, the Jedi rolling on top of him and laying with her chin on her hands upon his chest, a soft smirk on her lips as she ran one long leg against his.

"Consider it for me, my lover," the Jedi cooed, and Kenobi allowed himself to relax, closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of her body against his. It was _possible_ , he supposed. In his own darkness, Obi-Wan always had Satine, and when he lost her, it was all over, Darth Lumis bloody and victorious over the soulless body of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had found his light again through Luke and Leia, through Padmé's children. _Anakin's_ children. It was true that Anakin had given up his right to those dear, sweet children the moment he threatened their lives, but even then, that hadn't been entirely his fault. Perhaps Luke and Leia could bring the wayward Anakin but to what he once was. Back to what he _should_ have been.

There was no salvation for either him or Vader, Obi-Wan knew. They were both bad men. _Terrible_ men, undeserving of any solace, any peace, any redemption. It was a path that Obi-Wan had chosen, but Anakin had been forced down upon it, and where Lumis had Satine, Vader had nobody. It...wasn't fair, even if he had come to deserve all his suffering and more, it hadn't begun that way. Redemption and forgiveness would never be theirs, but with the twins, Obi-Wan felt... _peace_. Calm. A soothing warmth that had been robbed from him so long ago when the Dark Side took him in its grasp and never let go. In this, his children were remarkable. Perhaps, one day they may come to move Darth Vader as well. Anything was possible.

"I don't believe redemption is possible," Obi-wan finally said softly as he stroked the Jedi's cheek, the woman leaning into his touch. "Vader and I are too far fallen, too corrupted. The light that once was within us is gone." He quickly kissed the Jedi's cheek when her face fell. "We will never be forgiven for the things we have done, but I believe we may find peace."

Luminara looked at him for a long while, the bright blue eyes boring into him, and slowly, a wide grin spread across her face. "How?" she asked, but the Sith Lord simply shrugged. "Do you really think it's possible?"

"Who knows? I'm a Lord of the Sith, and I...think I've found my guiding light. It's not _my_ light, no, but it's as close as I'm getting. And...I suspect that it may be the same one for Vader."

Luminara started to question it, but quickly stopped, leaning up to kiss at the Sith Lord's neck instead when his hands found their way to her hips, his grip tight and insistent as he softly growled, his blood thickening with the arousal that came so easily to him. He had secrets, she knew, and he was entitled to keep them. Perhaps even the Sith Lord Darth Lumis had something he held dear, even after his terrible losses, even with the knowledge that any of those bonds may yet rip new bloody gashes within him. Whatever it was, it was slowly healing the Sith Lord's broken soul, regardless of how he denied it. Perhaps the same could happen for Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

Darth Vader was _exposed_. Vulnerable. Bare in the sweet confines of his bacta tank, free of the slavery of the armor he wore, and still, he couldn't help but miss it. The pain in his body was without end, amplified by the pain of the suit he wore, not just for survival, but to deepen his connection to the Dark Side. He lived in constant pain, but in that pain, his hate grew strong, and he grew powerful. He welcomed it, embraced it, _hated it_ , and that was the point.

But even for him, the physical pain he suffered occasionally became a distraction. Even he was still human, even if the armor made him seem otherwise. Even he needed a mind clear of pain so he could focus and meditate upon the Force, the Dark Side, and his place within it. His body could only withstand so much before it failed, after all, and so Sidious had given him a bacta tank to heal his body when he needed it. It wasn't often, but it was enough, sessions that were needed simply to keep him alive, and he hated that as well.

The Palace of Mustafar, Darth Lumis' old home, was a formidable fortress, elegant and imposing and opulent, much like the man who had once lived in it. Gone was the excess now, replaced by a stark austereness that suited Vader better. He had no need of such frivolous things, no need of the vanity Lumis was plagued with, no need for comfort or hedonistic pleasure like the indulgent Kenobi. It brought him _immense_ satisfaction to have taken Lumis' palace and made it his own. It was a small victory over the other Sith Lord, even if it _was_ in the place when Anakin Skywalker had breathed his last. Even if every time he came to the planet, he could see the banks of the lava river where he had lost his limbs, lay burning alive as the cruel Darth Lumis watched. It was here he failed his Master for the first time, condemning him to life in the armor he wore. He found peace here where others would find horror, meditation on his pain in the place it was inflicted.

He could hear the muffled sound through the thick liquid of the bacta from outside the tank, a hissing door, a muffled voice, some other things he payed no mind to. He was in no danger here. He opened his eyes when he heard a hand lay upon the glass of the tank, and he looked into the red-rimmed yellow eyes of Maul, the Zabrak unmoved by the sight before him. He had no need to be. It was nothing Maul hadn't seen before, and with how exposed Maul's mind was, he found no shame in the exposure of the body. It was less embarrassing, less shameful than his own mental ravaging, the scars on his mind far worse than the physical maiming that Vader had endured. _Vader_ had overcome. Maul did not.

The level of bacta in the tank slowly lowered, exposing Vader's bare head to the chill of the air, the breathing of the respirator on his mouth echoing loudly in the closed space. He adjusted, the feel of the bacta on the rest of his body tingling and warm, his head slowly beginning to burn once again. The treatment was not over, so the tank was not emptied. But apparently, Maul needed to speak.

"What is it?" Vader snarled, though not with the forceful, vicious malice he had when inside his armor.

"I spoke to Thrawn," Maul said softly, his fingers drumming upon the glass of the tank.

"Did you tell him we are _displeased_?" Vader snapped, his anger flaring. "Did you tell him that one year of hunting Lumis amounting to nothing makes him as big a failure as the rest?"

"I did," Maul said, nodding. "But you won't like his answer." The Zabrak leaned his forehead against the tank, a wicked smile on his face. " _Patience_ , he said."

" _Patience_!" Vader hissed his body tensing and pain shooting through him despite the soothing bacta. "For over ten years, I have waited patiently for my revenge. You have been waiting even longer! The time for patience is _over_!"

"What's a few more years of waiting?" Maul said, grinning wider when he felt Vader's anger rising. "That's what he said. And he said he's not hunting him, not yet. He's _learning_."

"How long can it possibly take him to learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi?!" His regulated breathing hitched, and he began coughing into the mask, and Vader ducked his head beneath the soothing bacta, breathing deeply as the soothing gel did its work.

"He says it's tricky," Maul said when Vader reemerged a moment later. "He said to understand how he works, we must understand what he identifies with."

"He is _Sith_ ," Vader snapped.

"Well, _yes_ , but Thrawn says that's his philosophy, _not_ his background. He says it's tricky with Jedi, since they have been trained to let go of where they came from, but he says with some confidence that Lumis identifies as Mandalorian. Though, he _is_ running some tests to see how much of the Jedi way he has maintained."

Vader was silent for a moment, pushing past his anger and all the questions he had about the Admiral's unconventional methods, trying to consider the issue from another perspective, but he kept falling back on his anger. "What does Tarkin think of this?" he asked quietly.

"He confesses to the Admiral's genius," Maul said, shrugging. "Thrawn is playing a long game. He says that, for now, Lumis is of little threat to Imperial rule, but that may change quickly if he is suddenly pressed."

"So he would do _nothing_?" Vader snarled, but the Zabrak shook his head.

"No, not nothing. He's been..." Maul paused, his hand to his chin as he considered what he had heard. " _Testing_ him," he finally decided. "Using Luminara Unduli."

"The Jedi Master must be destroyed," Vader softly growled, ducking his head beneath the bacta for a moment before emerging again. "That she eludes us is an _insult_."

"Yes, but Thrawn says Lumis' actions have changed since she saved her on Ord Mynoch. He wants to know how and why and under what conditions he comes to her rescue." Maul rocked back on his heels, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "He's protecting her, it seems, and Thrawn believes that when he understands the conditions of this protection, he can snare Kenobi."

"They were friends once," Vader mused. "Perhaps they are friends once again. It's one of the few that remain." He took a deep breath, the anger fading from him as he accepted this plan. Perhaps Thrawn was right. Perhaps an outsider was required, one that could look at the situation unclouded by hate and rage. "It seems as though Luminara Unduli is unwittingly serving the Empire. Perhaps when Lumis is captured, I will make him watch me kill her." Maul shivered and looked away as he rubbed the scars on his trembling hand. " _Maul_." Wide, fearful eyes snapped up to look at Vader. "Lumis _can_ be defeated, and you will be free of him."

"Y-yes, I know..." Maul stuttered quietly. "But I don't know if I _want_ to be free..." He looked up, a frightened, nervous smile on his lips. "You don't know what he did to me..."

"What he did is irrelevant," Vader snarled. "All of it will be over once he is dead."

"...a Jedi Padawan cut me in half and took my place as the Sith Apprentice, just as it had been done for a thousand years," Maul said softly. "Darth Sidious trained me to know anger, to know _savagery_ , to know that there is no peace, only cruelty, and through his teachings, I lived." His hand clenched tightly by his side as anger flooded through him. " _Jedi_...Obi-Wan Kenobi, _hatred_ of him made me strong!" Maul's eyes fell, the trembling in his hand increasing. "But Kenobi died. I killed him. I made _Darth Lumis_." Maul whimpered pitifully. "And he made me."

"You can unmake him," Vader said, a bit softer than before. " _We_ can unmake him. Our Master kept you for a reason, you are an _insult_ to him. A living reminder of his failure to save his wife and child." Just like Padmé...

Vader pushed the thought away.

"I made him..." Maul repeated, almost in a daze. "I made him." He swallowed hard. "Darth Lumis trained me as well. He trained me to know _fear_. He trained me to accept torture, to be _grateful_ for it, because his kindness was _far worse_. He ripped my anger from me, everything that I was, and he made it his own." Maul gripped his head and shut his eyes tightly. "I saw him corrupt the living with a single touch. I watched him take living creatures in his hand and drain the very life out of them. I was never out of his sight for long, and when I was, I never knew how he would return. Sometimes he brought pain, but..." Maul shivered. "Sometimes, he'd return and there would be pleasure. _Affection_. And that was worst of all. It meant he'd been studying, and I was his favorite experiment..."

Maul didn't need to elaborate for Vader to understand. Sidious was a cold Master. A cruel one, at times, but also fair and patient, a Master that nurtured the future of the Sith instead of weakening it. Even Maul, pitiful creature that he was had use to the Sith, and so was allowed to live. There was no illusions between them on who was the true apprentice. Maul willingly submitted to Vader, understood his power, his unquestionable place at Sidious' side, and he accepted it, his rage never amounting to anything when directed toward the Sith, a byproduct of Lumis teachings that Sidious actively encouraged. It made him a weapon for the Sith against anything he was pointed at, so long as that something wasn't another Sith Lord. It kept Sidious safe, the Zabrak's anger forgotten in the presence of the Sith Lords, as anger and rage were their domain, _not_ Maul's.

Of course, it made him useless against Lumis, but for just a moment, when the Zabrak had laid eyes on a Kenobi that looked _very_ much like the Padawan that had dethroned him, he found his anger once again, the fearsome rage that had been stolen from him, the fury that kept him alive when death was certain and expected. Sidious had seen it as well, but Vader thought that it seemed like their Master believed that Maul's anger was best left forgotten. There was something he perhaps didn't know about the relationship between Maul and Sidious, something that made the Master content to keep Maul a mewling slave instead of rising him up to become a true apprentice. Perhaps the danger of him crawling back to Lumis was simply too high, but Vader suspected that was only part of it.

Maul's fingers tapped the glass as he chuckled softly to himself. "S-sorry..." he whispered, and Vader had to strain to hear him. "I can't tell our Master about this without suffering for it and...well, you understand what Lumis is. You've seen what he is."

"...a Sith Master," Vader said, closing his eyes. "Yes, I remember."

"Lord Sidious may underestimate him, but you and I won't." His eyes shifted, looking around as if he thought someone may be listening, and content to see nobody around, he pressed his face and hands to the tank. "That makes us... _friends_. Partners, if you will."

"I don't need anyone," Vader snapped. Maul simply shrugged.

"Maybe not, but you're alone too, and I think we're together for a reason." Maul pushed away from the glass. "Thanks for listening, my friend," Maul said as he left the room, and with a growl of irritation, Vader sank back into the bacta tank, and he was alone.

* * *

Kanan Jarrus walked down the hallways of the _Ghost_ from the cockpit to the back living quarters. The ship was a _wonder_ , a modified light freighter that was deceptively fast and flew like a dream in the right hands. And it was _always_ in the right hands. Hera was the best damned pilot he'd ever seen, far better than him, certainly, and together, they had made one hell of a team. Together, they traveled the galaxy, found places that were suffering under the yoke of the Empire, and found ways to steal and deliver much needed supplies. Nothing too fancy, but the work was important, and it appealed to Kanan's rediscovered sense of honor, something that he had almost forgotten was a part of him until Hera reawoke it. Something he'd put away when he put away Caleb Dume after Order 66.

But not today. Today, they were taking the day off. Today, Hera was turning _twenty one_.

It was exciting, traveling around the galaxy with Hera Syndulla, though Kanan had suspected for a long while that their motivations were very different. Kanan was satisfied working on their own, just the two of them in a noble cause. Robbing from the Empire and giving what they stole to the needy wasn't _exactly_ what he had imagined being a Jedi would have been like, but it was close enough, and he was good at it. A decade of working as a smuggler, a freighter pilot, a bartender, a roughneck, whatever else suited his fancy made him well-equipt for setting up a heist, and the strategic mind he had developed as a Jedi Padawan helped in casing, planning, and executing the missions they undertook. And it felt _good_.

Hera, of course, seemed to have loftier goals, though she and he rarely discussed it. She was of the same mind when it came to helping the people, but that's where the similarities ended. She never came out and said it, but Hera wasn't about helping out where she could, she was about attacking the problem at the source. The _Empire_. A _rebellion_. Kanan wasn't too sure about that. They messed with the Empire, yeah, but it was in small ways, nothing that would draw the ire of the Empire beyond a half-hearted chase. No Imperial would risk their necks for a shipment of food or medical supplies, which is mostly what Kanan and Hera dealt in, so they attention they got was minimal, chalked up to banditry and thieves, not _rebels_ , which seemed to be the primary concern of the Imperials everywhere they went.

Every now and again, she's talk about assembling a team so they could expand their little operation. More people to do more good, but Kanan wasn't too sure about that either. He trusted Hera, had grown close to her, and having others aboard made things just...a little more complicated. More people meant more coordination, which meant more things could go wrong. More people meant letting more people get close to him, which was something he was still reluctant to do, the exception to the rule being sweet, _lovely_ Hera. More people meant the possibility that someone else might learn his secret, and if that someone were to betray them and they _knew_...well, it would be all over for him then.

He didn't use the Force much, he preferred to avoid it when he could. That part of his life was over, and using it was no less dangerous now than it had been two years ago when he was living on Gorse. But...Hera had helped him. The Force was a part of who he was, and he couldn't discard it anymore than he could just throw away his lungs or his liver. He'd use it, _sparingly_ , if the mission called for it, if he could pull it off without being detected, if the pesky pull within him could be put to good use. And with Hera, it was. It adhered to the sense of honor he had eschewed for so long, and by accepting the Force back within him, thinking of it less of the death mark as it was and more like the gift Hera saw it to be, he felt... _whole_. More himself than he had been in ages. True, he was no longer Caleb Dume, Jedi Hopeful, but neither was he the aloof and callous drifter. And that was all thanks to Hera.

Which, of course, brought him to the worst part of expanding the team. The second they took another on the ship, their alone time was _over_ , and Kanan _really_ didn't want that.

It was no secret that he was... _infatuated_ with the beautiful Hera. There was just something about her, something beautiful that went beyond her physical appearance, something about her drive, her dedication, her passion that drove him absolutely wild. _True_ , as a Jedi, he had been raised to avoid forming attachments, most notably romantic ones, but that rule wasn't actually _in_ the Code, a prohibited thing that was sort of tacked on after at some point, and when the Jedi had died and he was on his own, a young, newly named Kanan Jarrus found it _very_ easy to forget that rule.

His attraction to her was part of what kept her running beside her in the mess on Gorse, and it certainly influenced his decision to run away with her on her magnificent ship, fighting the good fight in what little way he could while still avoiding detection, just as the message out of the Jedi Temple had warned him about. He still had that message, recorded by Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, one of the great Masters of the Jedi Order before the whole thing fell apart. Avoid detection. Not run, not hide, but avoid detection. Something about that wording had stuck with him. This wasn't about running around and doing his part to free people from the Empire that betrayed the Jedi. This meant to avoid detection, hide the connection with the Force, keep secret the very way of life he had been raised with. He still took that direction to heart, though in the past year, the application had shifted a bit.

"Avoid detection..." he mumbled, stopping outside of Hera's room and looking at the floor. Then what? He had asked his Master that once, long ago. Were they to be warned away from the Temple, what would he do? How would he know _what_ to do? Master Billaba answered in riddles, of course, as so many Jedi did, but he had taken away that he should wait for orders. And if orders never came? Well, she had said that perhaps something else would come along and show him what to do. And Hera was that thing for Kanan.

If she had been bothered by his quite obvious infatuation in the beginning, she didn't show it, and she may have even been... _amused_ by it, Kanan thought. It was clear she wasn't interested, her mind so focused on her duty that she had little time for anything else. For Hera, something inside her knew that _nothing_ , no matter how badly she wanted it, could step between her and her goals. In this, she was...very Jedi, now that Kanan thought about it. And that hadn't changed about her in the two years they had traveled together. Not even when she started to have feelings for him as well, and that part of her made Kanan's infatuation turn to love.

It had offended his Jedi sensibilities a bit, something so deeply ingrained within him crying out at the danger of such a powerful bond and how quickly that bond may break, how badly it hurt when they were gone. Kanan had experienced enough pain as Calen Dume, and had based the rest of his life around remaining aloof and unattached to make leaving each new place easier. Sure, he had girlfriends, but that was all they were, and they had been as easy to leave as anything else. But he _loved_ Hera, everything about her, and in time, after struggling with it privately for the better part of a year, he decided that it was fine. He could love her. He couldn't possess her, couldn't become so attached that nothing else mattered, couldn't sacrifice other things in favor of her. That would be wrong. But he _could_ love her when he was able, in the ways he was able. Hera was capable, possessed a strong will, and to rush in to aid her when everything she worked for would be sacrificed in the process would have been insulting to her own abilities. It was a fine balance he had struck with himself, but a good one.

And then slowly, she came to love him too.

Kanan would never call what he and Hera _dating_. They weren't _dating_ , she wasn't his girlfriend, but they certainly cared for each other, definitely loved each other, and when they weren't out making a difference, sometimes, when it was quiet, when the plans had been made, when the shipments had been stolen, when the supplies delivered, they'd sit together, holding hands, and he'd just _listen_ to that sweet, beautiful voice, perfect music to his ears. She talked about her hopes, her plans, her past, how she got started with this rebel business, how she met her cantankerous droid, Chopper, a beastly thing that didn't seem to care for how close Kanan was becoming to the beautiful Twi'lek.

Kanan didn't talk much. He never did, but it was alright, because Hera seemed to understand far more than he ever said. There was nothing in his past worth talking about anyway. All there was in his past were drunken nights, bar fights and short, passionate affairs with college girls and the daughters of the locals. And dashed dreams. Betrayal. Death. None of which a lady needed to hear, certainly not a lady he wanted to keep around. And that seemed to suit Hera just fine. There was something unspoken between them. She understood without knowing, didn't press or pry, and after she learned what he really was, she had never spoken about what she had seen him do aboard the _Forager_ , hadn't said a word about him being a Jedi, never mentioned that _other_ Force sensitive they had encountered, though she understood there was something vastly different between Kanan and the nameless Mandalorian.

They were so often busy, but occasionally, they would touch, a brush of a gentle hand on a shoulder, a caress of the cheek, something soft and unspoken to show they cared. It escalated slowly into periodic hand holding, sitting close together while they ate, a shy reluctance to part when they stood in the halls outside their separate rooms. That had gone on for months before a longing look kept them rooted to the spot, their hands clasped tightly together, and Hera had pressed her lips to his, so swift that Kanan only realized it had happened after the blushing Twi'lek had disappeared into her room. But that step had been crossed, and the next time they had a quiet moment alone, they found themselves tucked away in a corner and pressing chaste, gentle kisses to each other's lips.

It hadn't been more than that because _both_ of them had reservations. Kanan, because he hadn't been involved emotionally like this with anyone before and knew himself to be something of a wild child, and didn't want to scare the clearly romantically shy Hera away. And Hera simply had never done this before. A life of rebellion never found her the time or the inclination to pursue romantic ties, and the woman was clearly far above the males her age, boys masquerading as men. Kanan knew that all too well. Before her, he had _been_ one of them. Kanan was only four years older than her, but it was enough for him to feel responsible at making certain he wasn't an idiot about this, so he kept his feelings in check, ended things when he felt they may become too heated, managed himself so she wouldn't be caught dealing with anything that would have been, quite frankly, _embarrassing_.

But _today_! Today, Hera was twenty one. He didn't know why he was so excited, but he was. He didn't have anything to give her, but he thought the gesture might mean something to her. Or not. Hera's pragmatism often made her difficult to figure out. He wasn't sure of a birthday was something she would privately celebrate, or simply discount. He had requested the day of rest, claimed that their last mission was far too tight for comfort and needed a day away to recharge so they didn't make such simple mistakes. Which was _true_ , so Hera had agreed, but that reason was secondary for Kanan.

With a deep breath, he knocked on her door, heard her call for him to enter and, smoothing back his hair, Kanan pressed the button to open the door and stepped inside the room. It wasn't so bare, so austere as Kanan's, but Hera was a simple woman, and kept little to clutter her room with. Kanan smiled when saw her sitting upon the bed, and when she patted the place beside her, he dutifully sat where commanded.

"Bored already?" Hera asked as she crossed her feet under her and leaned back to look at him. "It's not even noon. I _told_ you that you'd get restless. I have word on an Imperial supply depot that's supposedly _shockingly_ understaffed, you can help me make an infiltration plan, if you're up for it."

"Wait, _I'm_ restless?" He gasped, laying a hand on his chest. "I'm not the one already planning our next move! We decided that today would be a day of rest, _remember_?"

A sly smirk came to Hera's face. "Well, not all of us can be layabouts, Kanan Jarrus."

"Ooh, ouch," he said, doing what he could to keep the grin off his face when she chuckled, but he failed in that. "What are you even doing taking layabouts on, huh? You get lonely up here?" Hera shrugged.

"Maybe I like the view." Kanan didn't even try to hide his smile that time.

" _Actually_ ," he said, clearing his throat, "I'm here because, uh...well..." A lopsided smirk crossed his face, and Hera arched an eyebrow, clearly suspicious of whatever her companion happened to be up to. "I just wanted to see if you looked _old_ , now that you're well past your prime." She looked at him with confusion for just a moment before her eyes widened with understanding, a disbelieving smile on her beautiful face.

"You remembered _that_?" He just shrugged, and with a smile, she punched his shoulder. "You're a real devil, you know that? We didn't need a day of rest at all, did we?"

"You got me. I would have gotten you something, _but_..." Kanan pointed an accusing finger at the Twi'lek and lightly tapped her nose. "Turns out, being a rebel doesn't pay well." He shrugged. "So all you get is me."

Hera glanced up at the ceiling as she considered this, her hand stroking her chin, and she eventually gave him an indifferent shrug. "I suppose that will have to do."

"So!" Kanan said, leaning over and flashing her his most charming smile as he took one of her lekku in his hand, and she promptly smacked the offending hand away. "I'm all yours. What do you want to do?"

This time, her consideration of the question was genuine, her manner almost uncertain, _hesitant_ when she finally looked at him, her lip caught between her teeth as she looked intently into his eyes, and Kanan fidgeted under her gaze.

"I want you to tell me about the Jedi Purge." Hera took Kanan's hand in hers at his immediate discomfort. "Kanan..." she began softly. "I've tried to be as respectful as I can. I've tried not to pry into what I know must be extremely painful, but now that we're...getting _closer_ , I think it's something I need to know about you."

Kanan laughed nervously as he twirled his ponytail around his fingers. "Man...leave it to a woman to take advantage of a gift..." Hera immediately began to protest and stopped when the man swiftly kissed her cheek. "No, you're right. You should know. You...deserve to know."

"I you don't-"

"I do." Kanan let go of her hand and closed his eyes, breathing deeply to calm his unruly heart. "My name," he began, "was Caleb Dume. And I was the Padawan to Jedi Master Depa Billaba when everything was destroyed."

"The Emperor says that the Jedi were planning to overthrow the Republic," Hera said softly, and Kanan turned pained, angry eyes on her.

"I _know_ what the Empire says, and they are _lying_! The clones, the soldiers we had spent _years_ fighting beside suddenly turned on us, without provocation, without warning, they just... _snapped_!" Kanan looked at Hera frantically, searching her face for something, _anything_ , and found...compassion. Understanding. Sympathy and sorrow, horror about the tragedy that had befallen the Jedi. He realized his hands were on her shoulders, gripping her tightly. He quickly released her. "We were betrayed," he said softly after a moment of silence, his hands clasped tightly before him. I don't know how, or why, but it happened. I fought beside my Master when they turned. I tried to help her, and...she told me to run. S-so I did. I ran, and she died." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "She died so I _could_ run."

"She saved your life," Hera said softly, and Kanan violently shook his head.

"No, no, _no_ , I was a _coward_. The Jedi taught us not to be afraid, but I _was_. She told me to run, and I did when I should have stayed and fought and died with all the rest." He laughed softly as he looked away and wiped his hands across his face. "That's what happened," he said quietly, his face turned away from her. "You know the rest."

This explained _everything_. It was like getting the pieces to a puzzle that stood sitting long put together, but incomplete. Yes, she could see the picture, knew what it would be when it was complete, but the finer points, the details, had been lost. And now she had them. It explained his aloofness, his life as a drunken vagabond, _everything_. That he had managed to reclaim his sense of honor, his bravery, his perseverance, that he managed to find his way again after what he had been through spoke well of his character. And she felt she loved him all the more for it. She gently took his hand in her own and lightly ran her fingers over it, a soft smile on her lips as the man shivered. This didn't just tell her what she needed to know about Kanan. It confirmed what she wanted as well.

"So," she tentatively asked, "should I call you Caleb?"

He shook his head. "I'm not Caleb Dume, not anymore. I'm not sure I ever was." He straightened up, resolved, and nodded. "No, Kanan Jarrus suits me just fine." He finally looked at her, a shy, nervous smile on his lips. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah," Hera said softly, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "That's alright." When he leaned into her touch and sighed in relief, the Twi'lek sat up on her knees, pressed herself close and kissed him, tenderly at first, but quickly escalating things when she found him receptive, and the intensity quickly found Kanan unawares, suddenly having to battle himself from becoming too heated as his hands rested on her hips. When Kanan broke away from her, only to have her press closer to him and kiss him again, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He _had_ wanted this, for far longer than he cared to admit, and from how the Twi'lek was swiftly pulling on his tucked shirt to get her hands underneath it, it seemed as though she wanted it too.

"I think," Kanan muttered when they parted to catch their breaths, "that we _may_ be getting a little bit heated. We should stop."

"We should," Hera softly agreed as she unclipped the armor that covered Kanan's right shoulder. "But we won't. I don't want to."

"You really don't know what you're doing..." Kanan said softly, and with a smirk on her face, Hera undid the fastenings on her flight suit and pulled it off, leaving her stripped down to nothing but her basics, and Kanan's jaw dropped, his teal eyes wide as he stared at her.

"No," she admitted, sliding on to Kanan's lap and clasping her hands behind his neck. "But I understand that _you_ do." The man simply nodded stupidly, and she smirked. "Are all Jedi this clueless?"

"I-I think they must be," Kanan said, laughing turning into a gasp then a pleasured groan as Hera pressed flush against him and kissed his ear.

" _I want you_." She had whispered it, but for Kanan, it was all he heard, and within seconds, he was cursing as he fumbled with his belt, tearing his shirt off as quickly as he could, moaning into deep, passionate kisses as he laid her back, both of them stripped bare as wandering, curious hands explored and stoked each other to readiness. It was frantic, _desperate_ , something they had both clearly wanted for a long time, and now that their trust had deepened, now that she _knew_ who he was, there were no reservations left. And still, despite the passion and the heated emotions, Kanan had been careful and gentle, keenly aware that Hera, for once, was moving forward without careful planning and consideration.

"W-we can stop," Kanan stuttered again, and was answered by Hera's legs locking around his waist, drawing them as close together as they could be without becoming one.

" _Don't you dare_ ," she growled in warning, and Kanan slowly nodded, moved when her legs loosened around him, and slowly slipped within her, the two moaning softly as they became one. Kanan always knew that he'd follow Hera where ever she may go, but this made it official. Be it smuggling runs or fighting against the Empire, Kanan was never leaving the _Ghost_.


	12. Luke and Leia's Grand Adventure - 7 BBY

"Now, don't forget!" Obi-Wan said forcefully. "Tatooine is _not_ your personal sandbox!"

"All the galaxy belongs to those with the power to take it." Obi-Wan froze and slowly stared at the speaker, the red and gold Mandalorian armor glinting in the sun. When his eyes met hers, the girl just smiled. "That _is_ what you said, isn't it, father?"

"Leia..." Luke said under his breath. "He didn't mean it _literally_ , he-"

"Yes he did," the princess quickly cut in, a cunning smirk on her face as she stared down the Sith Lord. "Father is going to conquer the galaxy and build an eternal Sith Empire _because_ he has the power to take what rightfully belongs to him." She flashed him the winning smile that won her so much favor on Alderaan. "Right?"

"Qy tarnas nun, nuzinot keltij'zo siqsa," Kenobi growled under his breath, his fingers rubbing his temples. It was _hot_ , he had a headache, he was stressed, and Leia Kenobi, sweet dark star of his life, was running him into the ground, and her inclination toward darkness was the least of his troubles with her. Or the _root_ of them, he couldn't be sure. At least Luke behaved. _Mostly_. He got into his fair share of trouble as well, but gratefully, never at the same time as Leia. When Luke chose to misbehave, Leia was often there on the sidelines to encourage any foolish notion he may have, and wait for the opportunity to call him an idiot when things went wrong. As they always did. Luke at least tried to be the voice of morality when _she_ was misbehaving. Which was often. If not always.

The twins stood in the sands outside the Lars homestead, Leia leaning against the massive, horned head of Yoda, and Luke beside the huge yellow eye of a Greater Krayt Dragon, it's massive, pale blue head sticking out of the sand, the rest of its body laying unseen underneath the ground where it crawled. Kenobi had dominated the beast a few years back and just recently had made it docile enough to submit completely to the SIth Lord, recognize his family, do as commanded, even when he was away. Obi-Wan had set it to guard the Lars homestead, and the beast made its home in the sands of the desert around them. And before them paced their father, stalking like a predatory beast, the Sith Lord snarling and cursing in Ancient Sith.

Luke and Leia were well into their twelfth year of life, and they were rushing toward their teenage years with all the grace and poise expected from those going through puberty. Which was none at all. Neither of them were caught off guard for it, they were surrounded by adults who loved and cared for them and explained _exactly_ what it was that was going on with their hormonally driven bodies, but they had blundered into it like they had no idea what to expect. Luke had suddenly shot up, becoming tall and lanky in only a few short months, and with all the changes came frustrating awkwardness, both in his motions with his lightsaber training and in his interactions with _everybody_ , becoming tongue-tied at simply the sight of the opposite sex. The _Force_ didn't even seem to want to give him a break, as his lack of focus disrupted his studies, which left him a confusing mix of frustrated, irritated, and aroused, which only served to further disturb his studies. It didn't help that his beloved Ghost-Uncle Qui-Gon thought the whole thing _very_ funny.

Leia only fared slightly better. She grew taller as well, though not nearly so much, but she also grew into a _woman_ , only slightly, and just the beginnings of it, but it was enough to notice, enough to draw attention to her, and she quickly discovered that she didn't even _need_ the Force to get men to do as she wished. Leia was going to be a beauty, and with the girl already unconsciously embodying Dark Side seduction, she was looking to become a problem. The Force seemed to be laughing at her as well, though, and while Luke was struggling to harness his powers, Leia was struggling to reel them in. She was unconsciously effecting _everyone_ , not overtly, but subtly, and she soon found herself swimming in attention from boys and men who _all_ wanted the same thing from her, and despite her thrill at getting what she wanted, she wasn't willing to give anybody a _thing_ in return. It became quite clear _very_ early on that Obi-Wan was going to end up leaving a trail of dead men in her wake, because he'd be damned if _anybody_ touched his little girl.

Upon turning twelve, Obi-Wan had gifted the twins their first set of _real_ Mandalorian armor, crafted specially for them on Mandalore by the same man that had made his own armor. As far as Mandalore was concerned, they were old enough to fight, which made them old enough to wear the armor of their warriors, and Luke and Leia took to it with just as much enthusiasm as expected. Luke's in blue and silver and Leia's in red and gold, the two twins felt ready to embark upon adventures beside their father, roaming the galaxy and fighting the injustices of the Empire so the new order could come to pass. But their father's current undertaking wasn't one to be shared. He was rushing off _without them_ to rescue a long time ally, one that supplied the slowly growing rebellion with smuggled supplies, including large amounts of weapons. It was a dangerous matter, a sensitive thing that had the potential to go very wrong, very quickly. It was an _adventure_ , and Luke and Leia weren't invited.

Neither of the kids were happy about it. Luke turned sullen, pouting and moping as he quietly followed the Sith Lord and listened to his directions, sighing heavily when he looked up at the sky or to the _Umbra_ and thought about the fun he _wouldn't_ be having stuck on Tatooine. Leia was a fair bit more vocal, having been recently studying in a Junior Leadership Program on Alderaan, and there she learned the finer points of debate and politics, a thing she discovered she was prodigiously good at. And as such, she thought she could get her way with her father, as she so often got her way with everyone else.

It wasn't working.

"I'm not going to be more than a few days," Obi-Wan finally said, stopping his pacing and once again addressing the children. "If I'm not back by the end of the week, then I'm almost certainly dead or imprisoned, so..." He rolled his eyes. "Be on the lookout for that unpleasantness."

"Don't say that, father..." Luke said softly. "You're going to be fine. You're _always_ fine."

"That's why we should go with you," Leia said swiftly. "To make certain that you come back. Just in case."

"That's exactly why you _can't_ come with me," Kenobi said, his frustration clear on his face, not because of the children's pleading, but because he'd have to leave them so soon. He had planned on staying there longer. He planned on taking them with him when he left, him and his twins embarking together for their first training session with the young warriors of Death Watch, and after that, to Lubang Minor for their annual trip. But _no_. The Empire had finally caught up to Hondo Ohnaka's pirate gang and had quickly seen the entire operation torn apart. It was a major blow to Obi-Wan. He still had the benefit of the Hutt's resources, but Jabba also dealt with the Empire, a necessary move that kept the former Hutt Space territories largely free of Imperial scrutiny. _Hondo_ , however, dealt only with Kenobi, which made him a trusted and ideal smuggler for the growing rebel movement. The Empire was, after all, bad for business.

The mission was simple. Respond to Hondo's distress signal and extract him from Florrum. An Imperial presence was almost certain, though Obi-Wan suspected it wouldn't be a terribly large one. The message, after all, seemed to be directed at any of his remaining crew, and the Empire wouldn't leave behind a large force to deal with the tattered remains of a pirate crew.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan motioned for the kids to come to him and, sulking, they both did as they were told, dragging their feet to stand before the Sith Lord. "Your safety is my only concern," he slowly began, "and I _can't_ protect you both without risking the success of the mission." He smiled softly at them and laid his hands on their armored shoulders. "Gar cuyir ner kar'ta bal runi, ner ade. You are my everything. Never forget that." Luke broke first and quietly wrapped his arms around his father, a faint smile breaking through his sullen demeanor as Leia squeezed in next to him. For a long while, they stood like that, the Sith Lord absolutely unwilling to let go of the young pre-teens until a voice cleared behind them.

"Sir, we need to go," Cody said softly, Kenobi growling dangerously for a moment before he kissed the twins' foreheads and pulled away.

"Mind your Uncle Owen," he said softly, a faint smile on his lips, but his entire body was tense, stressed, unlike the twins had ever seen before. "He already doesn't like that you're Mandalorian instead of... _farmers_ , and I don't need to hear it when I come get you."

"We will, father," Luke quietly promised.

"Be safe and come home quickly," Leia said, and with a tense smile, Obi-Wan turned and stalked to the _Umbra_. Cody sighed heavily and looked at the disappointed twins.

"He's just stressed, kids," Cody said softly, walking over and laying his hand on Yoda's snout, the beast huffing as he did before he shifted and settled back into the sand. "A lot of things seem to be falling apart at once, and he doesn't think it's a coincidence."

"Something more than just the pirates?" Luke asked, suddenly worried, and Leia nodded beside him.

"Prince Organa says father's been distancing himself from the rebellion. He feels his activities against the Empire are being... _watched_ , and he's worried about leading the Imperials right to the rebels."

"That very well could be," Cody said, scratching the rancor between the eyes. "Some of the things we've done have _felt_ like traps, but...nothing ever came of it. It's putting him on edge. Something's happening, and your father doesn't like not knowing the answers." Cody shrugged. "Bo-Katan's been under Tarkin's thumb for so long now, and she hasn't been able to get so much as a message to him. And he hasn't heard from Luminara in over a year. The woman's gotten _very_ good at evading detection, it seems. They worked _very_ hard on that last time they were together, and it looks like is paid off." The clone grinned slyly. "Of course, I don't think he realized that meant he wouldn't be putting his hands on her anytime soon?" Leia slowly smirked while Luke just flushed red beside her.

"Oh, is _that_ his problem?" the princess drawled. "Does father just need to... _rendevous_ with someone special?" She rolled her eyes. " _Honestly_ , Uncle, I thought you were looking out for him, you know what the Dark Side can stir within a person, it needs to be sated or they'll become _savage_."

Cody scoffed. "You don't need to tell me twice, I'm _still_ recovering from the spree a few months ago on Zeltros."

"He's cut off," Luke said quickly, hurrying to derail the conversation before Leia escalated it. As she always did. "No Luminara, no Fulcrum, no Bo-Katan...no wonder he's stressed."

"Yeah..." Cody said softly, glancing back at the _Umbra_ was the engines powered on, the Sith Lord inside clearly becoming impatient with waiting. "He's always had allies. Kenobi's just no good alone." He shook his head. "Ah well. We'll salvage his pirates, we'll get him laid, and _everything_ will be fine." He looked the twins over carefully. "Do me a favor?"

"Anything," was the unified reply, and Cody almost burst out laughing. They were _so different_ , but they were often of one mind. Being huddled so closely together in the womb had clearly still effected them.

"Let your father protect you, yeah? He's been completely unable to protect anyone else he's loved, and if he lost you..." He shook his head. "I don't want to think about that. You're growing up so quickly. Let him be a father to you while he can." Leia bit her lip and looked away, suddenly ashamed by her behavior, and Luke quickly took her hand.

"We will, Uncle," Luke said, smiling at the clone. "Bring him home safely, alright?"

"I always do." With a smirk on his face, Cody quickly saluted the twins, a gesture they returned, and they watched the clone run on to the _Umbra_ , the ship taking off before the ramp had even closed, and they watched it cut through the sky until they could see it no longer. Luke dragged the toe of his boot through the sand.

"Now what..." Leia grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest and looking back at the sleeping rancor, the Krayt Dragon already vanished beneath the sand. "Even _Yoda_ is bored! Just look at him!"

"At least you don't live here..." Luke mumbled, staring at the patterns he was making in the sand. "It's not _all_ bad. It's quiet out here. And remote. Perfect for meditation. It's easy to feel the Force with so little interference."

"I _suppose_..." Leia said softly, laying her hand on Yoda and looking out over the dunes. "I never get a moment alone on Alderaan."

"I don't know how you do it." Luke sighed heavily and looked up toward the sky, his hand over his eyes to block out the blazing twin suns. "I always hate watching him leave. I just...worry he'll never come back."

"He'll always come back for us, Luke. Vi cuyir buir kar'ta bal runi, we are his heart and soul." He chest puffed with pride. "And he's the most powerful man in the galaxy! _Nothing_ can stand against him!"

"If that were true," Luke said, deadpan, "then he would have killed the Emperor by now."

"W-well..." Leia frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sith hells, Luke, I am _burning up_ out here!" the girl grumbled, stomping her way toward the house. Luke quickly moved to walk next to her, and the two were followed by a very groggy rancor.

"I didn't want to say anything when Uncle Cody was here, but..." Luke looked behind his shoulder as if there were someone around to overhear. "Luminara could be dead, couldn't she?"

"Father would sense it," the girl said quickly, her voice calm and authoritative. "She's sort of his girlfriend, I think he'd know if she was dead." She paused, stopping just outside the door to the house. "...I _hope_ he'd know."

"I don't want father to hurt like that," Luke said softly. "He already hurts so much because our brother is dead."

"It isn't just Ori'vod, it's everyone else too." With a sigh, Leia pushed inside the house, walking down the halls next to Luke to his room, and the girl picked up her helmet from the corner, held it to her chest, and fell back onto the bed. "There has to be some way we can help him."

"We're supposed to stay here," Luke said, picking up his own helmet and sitting at the chair by his simple wooden desk. "What can we _possibly_ do to help him from here?" There was a swift knock on the door, and as if on cue, Owen poked his head in the room, and both children sat up straight.

"I'm off to Mos Eisley to pick up the parts I need to repair the vaporators. Do you kids want to come?"

In tandem, the twins shoved their helmets on their heads. They didn't need to be asked twice.

* * *

 

"Luke, _Luke_!" Leia cried, pulling on her brother's arm and pointing to the establishment down the road. "We should go _there_!"

"U-uh..." Luke rubbed the back of his neck as he looked through his visor at the large, intimidating Trandosian that just walked into the cantina that Leia pointed at. Mos Eisley was, as their father had said, a wretched hive of scum and villainy, though Luke had always felt safe while walking down the streets. The Hutts may have owned Tatooine, but their father owned the Hutts, and once a month, their cousin Boba Fett came to collect protection money in the form of Aunt Beru's stew. The Lars family was _protected_ , and everyone knew it.

"I don't know, Leia..." Luke said softly. "I know we're safe here, but I don't think Uncle Owen would want us eating _there_." He held up his hand to show his sister the pouch of credits that the farmer had given them. His afternoon was going to be a difficult one spent in heated negotiations with a particularly nasty Dug, so their Uncle had given the kids some credits and told them that, so long as they didn't wander too far, they could go and get something to eat and have a look about town. Luke knew the place well enough, and he had been sent on errands several times on his own while his Uncle took care of other things. And while the farmer was admittedly over-protective, he was trying to give the children some leash, now that they were growing up.

"Why, what's wrong with that place?" she asked, craning her neck around Luke to see the secure ship port that lay just beyond the establishment in question, her smile gone unseen under her helmet when she spotted two Mandalorians, _bounty hunters_ , walk away from the ship they parked and into the cantina. "I think we should go!"

"Uncle Owen says there's all kinds of bad people in places like that," Luke whispered, his hand drifting to one of the twin blasters he kept on his hip. "You know, criminals. Slavers, murderers, thieves, the kind that would just take a girl and do... _things_ to them." Luke closed his eyes and nodded sagely. "I'd tell you what, but it's sort of... _inappropriate_ to talk about." He looked down at his side where Leia stood to find her... _gone_. Gasping and eyes wide, Luke looked on in horror as his sister strode boldly toward the cantina. "Leia, _wait_!" he cried, running after her and gripping her arm just as she walked into the establishment.

"Oh," Leia chirped, looking up at Luke. "It seems like we're already here. May as well sit down and enjoy."

"W-well..." Luke looked around the cantina, observed the patrons, and found it...somewhat orderly. It _was_ still early, and nobody seemed _too_ drunk yet. "Alright," he conceded. "But _don't tell_ Uncle Owen."

"I wouldn't dream of it, brother." Taking her hand, Luke led them past the bar and in the back to where tables sat around the floor, a few of them empty, but most of them occupied by patrons playing holochess or sabacc, piles of credits upon the table a clear indication of who the best players were. A swift tug on his arm stopped Luke, and he turned to see Leia pointing toward the back of the establishment where the two Mandalorians they saw enter earlier sat around a terminal, the holographic images of people floating above a small projector.

"What's that?" she asked softly, and Luke shrugged.

"I don't know. Let's go see." They quickly made their way back toward the terminal just as the Mandalorians stood from their places, a datapad in hand, and turned to leave, casually observing Luke and Leia as they passed and nodding to them in acknowledgment. The twins watched them go, grinning broadly under their helmets.

"Did you _see that_?!" Luke said excitedly. "They _noticed us_! Like we were one of them!"

"We _are_ one of them, Luke," she whispered, trying to sound unaffected, but she was failing horribly. She was _terribly_ excited. "Come on, let's see what they were looking at." They quickly sat in the chairs that the bounty hunters had vacated, waving their hands before the terminal and it quickly flicked on, displaying the image of a rough looking Zabrak female, her face covered in white tattoos.

"Tiaba Charr," Luke read. "Murder, robbery, piracy. Five thousand credits, courtesy of the Hutt Cartel." Luke blinked a few times and reread it. "Kriff, Leia, these are _bounties_!"

"I didn't know these paid so well..." she mused, flicking her hand through the image and it cleared, only to be replaced by another one. She did it again. Then again. Then as fast as she could, images zooming by faster than they could see. "There must be _thousands_ of them!"

"Do you think this is how father makes his money?"

"Don't be stupid, Luke, father is _royalty_ , that's what a _Lord_ is. His money just... _happens_." Luke nodded. That made sense to him. As they continued to flip through, Luke quickly grabbed Leia's hand, quickly telling her to hold on, and flicked his hand through the images that had just flown by, stopping at a contract for a Weequay male, his entire manner cocky, and the contract on him positively enormous.

"Fifteen thousand credits..." Luke gasped. "Piracy, smuggling, _treason_ , paid for by the Rang Clan for...Hondo Ohnaka?" Luke looked at his sister. "Isn't that father's pirate friend? The one he's gone out to save?"

"Yeah, I think it is," Leia whispered. "But I thought the Empire had him. I didn't think he had a _bounty_ on him." She studied the image. "Maybe the Rang Clan's working with the Imperials."

"Does father know?" Luke asked softly, and Leia simply shrugged, but Luke could see her shoulders were tense. She was worried. Imperials were one thing, but Imperials, a criminal clan, and _bounty hunters_ were another thing entirely. They knew what their father did was dangerous, but they didn't think the entire _galaxy_ was after him. Luke looked away from the terminal when Leia jammed her elbow into his ribs then quickly grabbed his arm as she pointed toward the front of the bar where a shadowy figure quickly made its way toward the door.

"Didn't that look a little like a Weequay to you?" Leia asked softly as she stood, and Luke lowered his scanner, zooming in on the retreating figure. It was, in fact, a Weequay.

"You don't think..." he started, looking at his sister, and she quickly tapped him on the back.

"I don't know. Wanna find out?" They didn't waste another second, the twins quickly scrambling toward the front, trying to regain their composure and look cool and collected as they left into the bright and dusty streets of Mos Eisley. At first, they thought they lost him, but a quick survey of the area allowed them to find the Weequay in question, the man acting _very_ suspicious as he headed toward the ship port, keeping close to walls and generally doing a _very_ poor job of not drawing attention to himself. He was suspicious, and he looked like it. Looking at each other and shrugging, Luke and Leia casually made their way toward him, heads held high and walking smooth and easy through the streets.

Turning the corner to the private ship ports, the twins saw the suspicious Weequay kneeling before one of the doors, a tool in hand as he fiddled with the console that sealed the door. With a sigh, they slowly approached him. The bounty said he was a pirate, _not_ a thief, and it showed, if this was in fact the man they thought it was. It _looked_ like him, in any case, though the picture the terminal had on file was clearly outdated. Gone was the garish red coat he wore in the image, replaced instead with a much simpler maroon tunic, the pointed frill along his jaws now elongated with age. He was older, yes, but this was clearly-

"Hondo Ohnaka?" Leia asked when they stood behind the would-be thief, and the Weequay jumped, uttering a startled, strangled yell that turned to laughter as he turned to look at the two _small_ Mandalorians behind him.

"Oh, oh, you..." the Weequay said, shaking a finger at the twins, swallowing hard when he saw that their hands rested on their blasters. "A-ha...my code _isn't working_! Can you _believe it_!" He crossed his arms, a frustrated, petulant look on his leathery face. "This planet is _nonsense_! This is what you get when a _Hutt_ is in charge, yes? You must understand," he said, tapping a fist to Luke's shoulder. "You're _Mandalorian_! You're used to a finer quality. Criminals, _all over_ this planet! But you're here to stop them, hmm?"

"There's a bounty on your head, Hondo," Leia said coldly, a perfect imitation of her father when he became commanding. "Now _why_ would that be?"

Hondo's eyes narrowed, searching the two before him, and at the first feel of aggression within the cornered man, Luke quickly said, "It's the Rang Clan. They're looking for you."

"The _Rang Clan_?" Hondo cried, laying his hand upon his chest as if he was offended, though both twins felt that the pirate was somehow relieved to hear the bounty wasn't taken out by someone else. " _Well_ , this explains _everything_ ," the pirate said, draping his arms over the twins' shoulders and leading them slowly away from the port he was trying to break in to. "They are _terribly_ upset with me, you see. A business deal went bad, and they are taking it personally. This is _nothing_ to concern yourselves with, my friends!" the pirate said, laughing heartily before he suddenly stopped, serious as can be. "How much?"

"Fifteen thousand," Luke said, and the Weequay balked, and began chuckling nervously.

"That is... _quite_ a sum..." Hondo almost whimpered, slowing his pace as he considered his options, and he finally nodded. "I'll double it."

"W-wha-"

"Thirty thousand credits!" the pirate said, waving his hands in front of the kid's faces, and he suddenly frowned. "Although...you are _small_ for Mandalorians. Is this a job you can handle?"

"We can handle _anything_ ," Luke said quickly, clearly offended, and Leia drew her blaster, casually pointing it at the Weequay's gut. The pirate stopped in his tracks, suddenly _very_ nervous.

"I don't know, brother," she softly drawled. "Fifteen thousand is more than enough. We don't even know what this guy wants, and the Rang Clan _always_ makes good on their payment."

"I told you, this is a _misunderstanding_!" Hondo cried. "I'm simply a businessman, and the Rang Clan feels...cheated."

"Uh huh..." Leia said casually. "Why?"

"Eh..." Hondo shrugged dramatically. "One of their ships... _happened_ into my possession. And I returned it, fine, upstanding citizen that I am."

"And..." the twins said in unison, arms crossed over their chests, and Hondo visibly winced.

"And...they claimed that their hold was empty when it _should_ have been filled with cargo. Gold, weapons... _gold_." Hondo cleared his throat. "So they claim."

"Uh huh..." Luke said, eying the Weequay suspiciously. "And where do we come in? What's the job?"

"A simple thing!" Hondo cried, throwing his arms in the air. "All you need to do is take me home so I can pick up a few things. And not kill me, of course." The Weequay flashed them a disarming smile, and Leia pointed a finger at his chest.

" _Wait. Here_ ," she commanded, and pulled Luke out of the pirate's earshot, keeping the blaster pointed at the man as he forced a smile at the Mandalorians. "So," she whispered, "what do you think?"

"Well...father went to save him, didn't he?" Luke asked, looking the grinning Weequay over. "He's an _ally_ , and a friend of fathers should be a friend of ours. I think we should help him."

Leia nodded. " _And_ we can help father this way. Think how happy he's going to be when he finds out that _we_ helped him!"

"He'll _never_ leave us behind again, Leia, he'll see we're _real_ Mandalorian warriors. We're ready. We'll just...help him out real quick and be back here before father returns, _and_ we'll have his friend!" Luke rocked back on his heels, his entire body quivering with excitement. "It'll be like we never left!"

"Right." The twins turned back to the Weequay, and the pirate looked at them expectantly. "Alright, we'll help you."

"Excellent!" Hondo cried, throwing his arms around the twins' shoulders once again. "I like you two. See, _this_ is how good business is conducted. You get what you want, and I don't die. Good for everybody! Now..." the pirate drawled, "since I don't have a ship..."

"I thought your ship was locked up in the port over there," Luke said in a flat monotone, pointing back toward the garage the pirate had been caught trying to break into earlier.

" _Bah_ , it's worthless anyway!" Hondo spat. "Hardly worth the effort to break in. I thought we could use _your_ ship..."

"We don't have a ship," Leia said swiftly, and the Weequay's face fell.

"This is..." the pirate stammered, "not good business. Not at all."

"But we _could_ have a ship..." Luke said softly, pointing out to the open airfield nearby. Leia followed his finger to a XS stock light freighter, it's central cockpit sitting on a saucer shaped body, it's powerful engines protruding from the rear of the ship. It was a common smuggling vessel, and this one almost certainly belonged to one. It wasn't a pretty ship, but it would get the job done, and their job was _simple_. "I've always wanted to fly one of those..."

"...you want to _steal_ the ship?" Leia gasped, and Luke immediately put his hands up to placate the girl.

"We aren't _stealing_ it! We're just going to... _borrow_ it. We'll bring it right back! It's not like anything's going to happen, we're _just_ taking Hondo home! We're like...an intergalactic taxi service!"

Leia patted her brother on the back. "It's a good idea, Luke. You should _totally_ do it."

" _Really_?!"

"Oh yeah." Luke sprinted toward the ship in a blaze of enthusiasm, unable to detect the goading, sarcastic tone in his sister's voice, just like every time he had his heart set on something. With a sigh, Leia walked toward the freighter. By the time they got there, Luke would have the thing running and ready to go. He always _was_ good with machines.

"Do you kids _actually_ know what you're doing?" Hondo asked Leia, his eeys narrowed as he looked her over.

"You don't like it, you could try your luck with the Hutts."

Hondo blanched. "N-no..." The pirate cleared his throat. "As it turns out, I _did_ try my luck with the Hutts, but...they don't appreciate competition..."

"Criminal competition?"

" _Business_ ," Hondo said slowly, drawing out each syllable as if speaking slower would help the girl understand.

"My brother's _basically_ the best pilot in the galaxy," Leia said, the pride in her voice unmistakable. "You've got nothing to worry about." It didn't seem to ease the Weequay, but Leia didn't mind. They were going to get off this planet, make a substantial amount of money, _and_ help their father. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

 

They came out of hyperspace above Florrum to green and red plasma filling the viewport, and immediately, the ship began to violently rock, the cockpit blaring with alarms as the ship was struck. Frantically, Luke threw up the freighter's shields and pulled back on the accelerator, his hands tightly grasping the yoke as he rolled the ship in a downward arch toward the planet. Leia quickly activated the forward cannons, her hands gripping the controls and her thumbs hovering over the triggers, waiting for the source of the attack to come into view, and as Luke suddenly pulled back to avoid oncoming fire, their jaws dropped and their eyes widened as they saw what lay above them.

_Star Destroyers_. Two of them, their TIE Fighters deployed as they fired against three large, disc shaped ships, all three of them burning. They were in the middle of a _battle_.

"They're destroying my _ships_!" Hondo wailed in dismay behind them, and Leia quickly turned to look at him.

"Wait, you _knew_ the Empire would be here?!"

" _Well_..." the Weequay said. "I thought it was _possible_..."

"And you _didn't tell us_?!"

"We need to get out of here," Luke said quickly, tapping controls on the console quickly with one hand and directing the ship with another, and he cursed under his breath when the hyperdrive refused to engage. It had been damaged as soon as they entered the system. Abandoning the escape plan, Luke brought the ship up, spinning out of the way of an oncoming volley of fire from the swarming TIE Fighters. "Don't shoot, Leia, we can't win this, and I don't want to draw more attention to us," Luke said through clenched teeth, and his sister immediately started working on the console, tapping buttons and flipping switches to divert power away from the weapon systems to bolster the quickly fading shields.

Coming out of the spin, Luke flipped the ship around and pulled back the accelerator, the freighter diving down quickly toward the planet, zipping past TIEs that spun to get out of the way, and they were immediately on his tail, green plasma flying past the viewport and striking the shields, causing the ship to shake and rock on the quick descent to Florrum, they had just about made it through the atmosphere when one of the TIEs shot a proton torpedo at the freighter, and Luke quickly swerved out of the way, only to hand another fired at him, and he quickly changed directions. The freighter, however, was bulky and unwieldy to handle, not at all like the smooth, responsive _Umbra_ that he had learned to fly in, and the missile struck the starboard wing, smoke and flames flying off of it as they spun out of control toward the planet's surface.

His eyes locked on his navicom, Luke _focused_ , imagined his destination and felt the Force flow through him, the danger negligible as he felt one with the ship. He pulled the yoke in the opposite direction, causing the spinning ship to slowly even out, directing the ship as it fell out of the sky to crash on the surface. They hit the ground almost evenly, the freighter screeching and groaning as metal was torn and ripped by the rapid deceleration caused by the rocks of the landscape, and just as the ship was slowing, it suddenly dropped, the occupants of the ship screaming as they fell off a cliff into a huge crater, the drop throwing them against their restraints as the ship came to land on its side.

"You know," Leia groaned as she unfastened her restraints, "when I said this was a good idea, I was being _sarcastic_."

"It's just always _so hard to tell_ ," Luke said between grit teeth as he dropped down to stand on the floor that was once a wall. He looked back at Hondo, the Weequay groaning and gripping his head, shaken from the impact. With the pirate dazed, Luke unclipped the cylinder tightly fastened to the back of his belt, and activated his lightsaber, the blade humming green in the air as he slashed at the cracked viewport, the weakened glass shattering on contact with the plasma blade.

Leia pulled her self over to the open viewport, poked her head out of the ship to quickly survey their surroundings, and ducked back in, her eyes wide and her face pale. "So...I think father might not be too happy with us after all..." she choked, pointing outside, and Luke quickly scrambled over to got a look at what she had seen. His heard _stopped_. There was a compound on the far side of the crater they had crashed in, a haphazard, metal structure that looked like it had seen better days. And between them and the structure were Imperials. _Lots_ of them. Stormtroopers and AT-ST Walkers shot at scrambling Weequay, the remnants of what Luke assumed to be Hondo's gang. He ducked back inside, his face as pale as his sister's.

"A-alright," he stuttered, thrusting his helmet back on his head to hide how scared he was. "We can't go out there."

"We can't stay here either," Leia said quickly, following her brother's example and putting her helmet back on her head.

"That's my compound," Hondo said softly, peeking out through the viewport, eyes narrowed as he observed the situation. He wasn't _nearly_ so daunted as the twins. "I have bunkers underground. Easily defendable. We get there, we can hold them off."

"There are _two Star Destroyers_ up there, Hondo!" Luke shouted, but the pirate just stuck his nose in the air.

" _Ha_! Hondo Ohnaka has fought against greater odds before! _And won_!" He laughed. "And I didn't even have Mandalorians with me!"

"W-we're not-" Luke began, but it was too late. The pirate had drawn his blaster and rushed out of the ship. With a sigh, the twins did likewise and rushed out after the enthusiastic Weequay. They had come this far. The couldn't very well give up on the pirate now. He _was_ their father's friend, after all, and at this point, the pirate seemed to be their only chance of not being grounded for _life_.

They ran as fast as they could across the wide open space, making their way as directly for the compound as they could, the twins keeping their senses open to danger and ducking out of the way of blaster bolts that shot past. When the Weequay pirates saw their captain running toward them, the crew suddenly came swarming in their direction, a victorious cry erupting among them as they fought with new inspiration. This, of course, drew the attention of the Imperials to them, and while they were suddenly surrounded with the support of a small army, the Walkers were suddenly headed directly toward them, shooting rapidly into the group and sending dirt and bodies flying with each shot.

They had just reached the doors to the compound, Hondo and his remaining pirates rushing inside when Luke and Leia stopped, a sharp, smooth whine of powerful engines cutting through the noise of blasters and walkers, an all too familiar sound as one walker, than another, exploded in a ball of flames as they were struck by torpedoes fired by the powerful cannons of the sleek, black and red ship that now sliced up through the air, flipped around, and came back for a second run. This time flying lower, Luke and Leia could see a single figure leap out of the ship and land on top of the single remaining walker, and as the doors of the compound closed, they caught a glimpse of the red flash of a lightsaber.

_Father_.

The twins looked at each other and swallowed hard. This was it. Their loving father was going to kill them.

A quick, sharp cry from Hondo drew their attention away from their impending demise, and they rushed to the other side of the long hall where the pirate stood looking into a smaller, adjacent room. "It's all here!" the pirate cried, throwing his arms around the twins' shoulders when they approached and quickly kissing the top of each of their helmets. " _Thank you_ , my beautiful friends. This wouldn't have been possible without _you_." They stepped forward to look inside the room and couldn't look away for a long, long while. Finally, Leia had enough.

" _Credits_?!" she cried, the high pitch of her rage drowning out the sounds of blaster fire and screams coming from outside the compound. "We came all the way here, risked our lives, put ourselves in the Empire's path for _credits_?!"

"Well, yes," Hondo said, confused. "What else is there _?_ "

"They're pirates, Leia, what did you expect?" Luke sighed, shaking his head. "He's going to kill us." Luke looked up at the pirate captain. "He's going to kill _you_."

"Me?" Hondo asked, looking around for someone else. " _Who_?"

The door began to creak and groan, the heavy metal of the reenforced building bending and twisting as it was suddenly ripped open, and through the dust walked Obi-Wan, yellow eyes narrowed as he quickly surveyed the remaining pirates.

" _Kenobi_!" Hondo cried, throwing his arms up in the air in his pleasure. "So _good_ to see you! So... _unexpected_. Had I _known_ that you'd be coming, I wouldn't have... _invested_ in outside help..." he said, glaring back at the twins who were now hiding behind the walls of Hondo's vault.

" _Someone_ knew I was coming..." Obi-Wan snarled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "As soon as I arrived, the Imperials retreated."

"They're gone?" Hondo asked in disbelief, grinning as he heard that the firing had, in fact, ceased. "They're gone!" he cried, turning toward his men as they shouted in victory. "Well done, everyone, we did it again! _Nobody_ messes with Hondo Ohnaka!" He leaned back toward the Sith Lord. "You too, Kenobi. Good job. We are so grateful for your... _charity_."

"This is _not_ a victory," Obi-Wan snarled.

"Of course it is!" Hondo said. "I don't even need to pay the Mandalorians, they didn't finish the job!"

Luke and Leia could feel the air _freeze_ , the chill reaching deep within them and gripping their very souls. There was no sense trying to avoid this any longer. Heads bowed, they stepped out of the vault, not daring to look up at their father. They didn't need to. They could _feel_ his fury as the comfort of the Force was torn from them, drawn to the powerful pull of the nexus that was Darth Lumis to fuel his rage.

For the _second_ time, Hondo Ohnaka found his compound being ripped apart and brought down upon his head by Obi-Wan Kenobi.

* * *

 

" _Reckless, irresponsible, thoughtless children_!" Kenobi snapped, pacing before the twins as they sat on the couch in the living room of the Lars farm, their hands clasped in their laps and their head's bowed. Cody stood silent behind their father, and to the side sat Owen and Beru, and their Aunt was _still_ crying. Their Uncle had wanted to speak his mind as well, the poor man having searched Mos Eisley frantically for hours for the twins that had disappeared from his care, but when Obi-Wan had returned holding his children by the back of the neck, the farmer had decided to forget the whole thing. Their father would lecture his children. It was far worse than anything he could have done.

"Posing as bounty hunters," he snarled, counting off on his fingers, "stealing a smuggler's freighter, taking up with a _pirate_ , _a wanted pirate_! Flying into a war zone and getting _stranded_ on a distant planet, _engaging the Empire_! _And you didn't even tell your Uncle where you were going_!"

"We're sorry, father," Leia began, her voice trembling in fear. They'd never incited his fury before. Disappointment, yes, frustration, all the time, but they had never looked at their father and seen a Lord of the Sith as they did now Even the rancor was cowering. "We-"

" _You're sorry_?!" Kenobi laughed harshly. "Your apologies won't make this go away. _What were you thinking_?!"

"We wanted to help!" Luke said quickly. "W-we saw the bounty on your friend-"

" _Hondo isn't my friend, he's an idiot_!" Kenobi took a long, deep breath. "A _very poor_ , idiot."

"W-we knew your mission had to do with him, and when we _saw_ him-"

"We just wanted to help your mission, father!" Leia said, holding back tears, and when she looked at her brother, he was already silently crying.

"You help me by staying _safe_!" Kenobi hissed. " _One_ wrong move, and you could have been discovered! Just _one_ , and they could have seen your powers, if you drew your lightsabers, they would have known you are _Force sensitive_! You would have been _hunted_!" He slid his hands into his disheveled hair and tightly gripped it. "There are _people_ watching me, kids, _something_ is... _testing me_ , something that I _haven't_ identified yet! If they saw you down there, if they knew what you mean to me..." Kenobi snarled in frustration. " _Sith hells_ , what would I have done if I _lost you_?!"

"Father, we-"

" _No_." The twins fell silent immediately, the harsh tone leaving no room for argument. "You are _twelve_ ," the Sith Lord said in exasperation, and almost desperate plea beneath his anger and frustration and worry. "You aren't great warriors, you aren't soldiers, you are _children_. You have some training, yes, but that was a _battle_. A real one, not the ones you see in holovids! You could have been shot, you could have been _stepped on_ , your ship could have blown up instead of crashed! Just one wrong slip and you would have been _dead_ and I would have..." He looked at the twins, golden eyes blazing not with anger, but with concern and worry, the closest thing to fear that he could feel, and he dropped into his seat. "Gar kelir cuyir te kyr'am be ni, you will be the death of me..."

The cold suddenly fled, and Luke and Leia could breathe again, their fear slowly easing as their father brought the Dark Side to heel. He looked... _tired_. Worn like they had never seen him. Despite the fact he looked no older than twenty, their father had just turned fifty, and years of weariness and pain settled on him now like a thick fog. Sniffling as they wiped their eyes, Luke and Leia stood, slowly approached the Sith Lord, and took his hands as they sat next to him. Kenobi quickly wrenched his hands away, the twins looking at him with hurt in their eyes for the second it took Obi-Wan to wrap his arms around them and pull them close. Neither of the twins could keep from crying into the Sith's robes.

"If I lost you, I would have _nothing_ ," Obi-Wan said softly. "You know that, don't you?"

"Y-yes..."

"We're sorry, father..."

"I know..." Obi-Wan said, kissing the tops of each of their heads. "No more scaring your Uncle half to death. No more adventures." He stopped and bit his lip for a moment. " _Unsupervised_ adventures. Only with me there so I can protect you. Am I understood?" The twins nodded, looked up at him and smiled shyly. "...you _are_ grounded for life, though." They hung their heads. They were expecting that. "And we're starting _here_." Kenobi smirked. "Your Uncle Owen has made you a _list_ of things that need to be done. And we aren't leaving Tatooine until the list is _finished._ "

Luke gasped as his heart sank. "Father, I've seen Uncle Owen's lists! We're going to be here _forever_!"

"Well..." he said, leaning back. "I _am_ immortal. I've got lots of time." He quickly kissed the boy's forehead. "Look at him! You've made him age ten years in a day!"

Owen growled. " _Kenobi_..."

"Best watch your wife, Lars. I'm going to get _really_ bored here while the kids work."

Luke and Leia quickly stood, grabbed the list from their blushing Aunt, and left the room right as things started getting _really_ awkward. If they were fast, the could have the list done in...two weeks. _Maybe_. But they'd work fast. They needed to get off the planet.


	13. The Ghost and the Umbra - 6 BBY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, this is it! The last chapter of the extended interlude. Now we can get into the meat of the thing I had planed as my ACTUAL sequel. I don't know what I'm going to call it yet, but I should have the first chapter up by...the weekend, I think? The format's going to be a bit more in line with the other parts in this series, though the tone is going to be a bit different. I think. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! I'll have some one-shots for you while I think of how to start the first chapter. Got a few good ones requested too, some Eeth Koth shenanigans and I believe I got a request for Kenobi at the Imperial Academy. Among others. But expect those two first. I think...also, keep the requests up. I love them.
> 
> Anyway, thanks you guys. Intermission over, let's get to the good stuff!

His name was Garazeb Orrelios, and he was a Lasat, a tall, agile, impressively strong species with digitigrade legs that allowed them to move faster, jump higher, step softer than humans, despite their large size. Prehensile toes assisted them in climbing, and large, feline ears and sharp eyes allowed them better senses than most species, and their bodies were covered in patterned fur that, supposedly, differed between individuals. They'd never know, of course, because most Lasal were dead, the entire species nearly exterminated by the Empire when the Lasal violently objected to the Empire's claim to their home world. Since then, the Lasal were rarely seen in the galaxy, the few left merely terrified survivors of a nearly complete genocide, and _no_ Lasal lived upon their ravaged world of Lasan.

Also, they smelled _terribly_.

"I don't like it, Hera..." Kanan mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed and glancing at the Twi'lek pilot as she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "He's too rash, too impulsive, too violent."

"Sounds like someone I used to know," she said, an eyebrow raised knowingly at the former Jedi, and Kanan frowned.

"Hey, I _avoided_ the Empire!" Kanan said defensively. "I did everything I could to not draw attention to myself, this guy's looking to start a fight!"

"Just like you, love," Hera said, smirking as she drew closer, her hand on his shoulder as she stood before him. "Only _you_ fought in bars, you drunken roughneck. Zeb fights against the Empire, which is what we're doing _right now_." She shrugged when the man glowered. "He's got a leg up on you on that one. I don't need to convince him to care."

"Alright, I get it, you like the big purple cat better than me," Kanan drawled as he rolled his eyes. "But that doesn't mean he'll fit in here with _us_ on the _Ghost_. He's going about the fight all wrong. I mean, you'd never have brought _Skelly_ along, that guy fought against the Empire too, he was _also_ angry and rash, and he blew a lot of Imperials up." Kanan pointed a finger at Hera's chest. "But _he's_ not here."

"Skelly," Hera calmly explained, "threw bombs into the streets and didn't think twice about innocent people getting caught in the crossfire. He didn't _like_ innocent people getting hurt, but he wrote them off as casualties in his crusade to save Cynda." She traced her fingers along Kanan's jaw and gently directed Kanan to look at her when he looked away. "Zeb isn't like that. He hates the Empire, yes, but he's compassionate and has a _very_ clear sense of morality. He knows right from wrong, that means something."

"Hera, he beats up stormtroopers as a way of _venting_. He's a loose cannon, and it's going to get him and _us_ into trouble!" Kanan huffed and crossed his arms, looking away as he thought, and sighed when Hera sat beside him and took his hand. "He's impulsive and quick to anger. That's the sort of thing that causes people to rush into a situation without thinking and sacrifice the _entire_ mission." Kanan bit his lip. " _And_ Chopper doesn't like him."

" _Chopper_ ," Hera said, her voice strained as a wry smile crossed her lips, "doesn't get a vote."

"Oh really? He gets a vote every time _I_ lead a mission."

"Kanan." The Jedi looked at her, the Twi'lek's face warm and sincere, and she laid a gentle hand on his cheek. "We need a team. If we're going to start doing more like we want to, we _need help_. We have to start somewhere."

"Yeah, but with him?" he gawked, pointing toward the door. "He's more libel to _end_ our operation on an impulsive whim, not help it! How does he even fit this team?"

Hera shrugged. "He's the muscle."

Kanan gave her a skeptical look. "The _muscle_."

"Well, yeah," she said softly, smiling when she saw Kanan's brow furrow as it always did as he was thinking. As it _always_ did right before he changed his mind. "If we're going to do more, we need to be able to _take_ more, and with how strong he is, he can do the work of _several_ regular people. We can quadruple the amount of cargo we can take if he does the heaving lifting. And besides," she drawled, holding up her hand in front of his face and wiggling her fingers, "it's not like you can just use the Force to load the ship."

" _Shhh_!" Kanan quickly hissed, clapping his hand over her mouth. "Don't _say_ that! He's got those big ears, I bet he can hear _right_ through the walls!" She smiled against his hand, gently kissed it.

"He's going to know if he's going to be with us, love," Hera said, laying a hand on his chest and feeling his heart beat. "And he did good on that mission today."

"Half the problems we had were because he rushed in without thinking so he could bust some heads!"

"Well, _yes_ , listening isn't his strong suit..." She looked up at him and grinned. "But he _did_ bust a lot of heads, didn't he?"

Kanan laughed lightly as he pulled the Twi'lek closer to him. "Yeah, I'll say. I've never seen one person take down so many stormtroopers. He's like an army."

"And we wouldn't have gotten out of there if he hadn't pried those blast doors open."

"He wouldn't have _needed_ to if he hadn't gotten us _in there_ in the first place!" Kanan crossed his arms, feigning petulance, and after a moment, gave Hera a sidelong glance. She was _smirking_. "Yeah," he sighed, running a hand over his hair. "Yeah, he did good."

"Glad to see you came around."

"Oh, no, no," Kanan smoothly drawled, leaning in toward the woman. "He did good _once_. He's too much of a risk. Cut and run while we can, that's what I say." Hera scoffed, crossing her arms. Kanan could be so _stubborn_ , a thing that came from a cautious, careful mind set, something he had learned in his time in hiding. It was a good skill, of course, but faith and trust couldn't be fostered if he wasn't willing to take a chance. That was fine. Hera could be stubborn too.

"His planet is _gone_ , Kanan," she said forcefully. "He has nowhere to go!" The man just shrugged.

"Lots of people have nowhere to go."

"Like _you_ , love." Hera stroked the handsome face when he looked away from her. "Where would you be now if I just dismissed you as a roustabout? If I never took a second look because you didn't care about _anything_."

"I don't know..." he mumbled. "Probably staring at the ceiling in a bar somewhere, soused off my feet."

"Zeb is reckless, yes, and angry because the Empire took _everything_ from him. His home, his people, his way of life, all gone because they stood in the Emperor's way." She tilted her head and looked at him, a crooked smile on her face when the man looked _sullen_. "Sound familiar?"

"Too familiar..." Kanan sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, Hera, you win." He shook his head. "I can't believe that _you're_ supposed to be the sane one."

"Just taking a page from you, Caleb..." she said softly, the man shivering and closing his eyes when her hand rested on his jaw as she leaned up and pressed her lips softly to his, melting into him as a wandering hand stroked her lekku.

A crash from outside the door saw them quickly part, followed by the sound of Chopper's outraged intonations and a feral, frustrated growl from their new companion. Kanan and Hera both sighed in unison, looked at each other, and began softly laughing. "Guess we won't be having much alone time anymore," Kanan said softly, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling softly at his lover. Hera just smiled and shook her head.

"Well...we had to grow up sometime."

"Duty first, I know..." Kanan muttered, jumping to his feet and taking the Twi'lek's hands to pull her to her feet. When she stood, Hera pushed him back against the wall, pressed herself against him, leaned up and kissed him, hard and deep and Kanan moaned softly, returning her every motion.

"We'll still find time," Hera said, her voice smooth and sweet and low, and Kanan shivered to hear it. "Between missions, when all our planning is done, during downtime in hyperspace, when the kids are asleep..." Kanan chuckled, running his hand down one of her lekku and smirking when the woman softly gasped with pleasure.

"That _kid_ is more than ten years older than _me_." Hera swiftly kissed his cheek.

"Then he'll understand. It's no secret that we're together, love, and if he's going to be a part of this crew, he's going to know anyway." She pointed with her thumb to the door. "His room would be _right_ down the hall, and he _does_ have superior hearing."

"Oh, _great_..." Kanan grumbled. "Just what I need. A _cat_ hearing what I'm up to in my downtime." Hera chuckled and shook her head.

"Shall we go see what kind of mess the two of them have made?"

"Do we _have_ to?" The Twi'lek stroked his chin, shot him a coy smile, and with a sigh, Kanan pushed himself off the wall.

"...Kanan," Hera said softly as the Jedi started toward the door. Kanan looked at her over his shoulder. "We did good work today, and...I'm proud of you for taking a chance on him." The Jedi answered with a playful smirk and a roll of his eyes. "We'll find some time tonight," she promised, gently taking his hand. "For us."

"For us..." Kanan replied, breathless as he leaned down to kiss her, only to be interrupted once again by a loud, metallic clang and the frantic cries from the astromech. Kanan winced, and laughing, Hera patted him on the cheek.

"Come on. We've got to get out there before they tear the _Ghost_ apart."

"Hey..." Kanan drawled as the door slid open and Chopper shot past them, beeping very rudely to a closely pursuing Zeb. "If they did, at least we'd have some peace and quiet."

* * *

 

"You shouldn't even be here!" Obi-Wan Kenobi paced back and forth in the hold of the _Umbra_ , the large space open and outfitted to serve as a training hall, crates blackened from carbon scoring from blaster fire, lined with slashes from a lightsaber, twisted and bent with the Force. In the corner lay Yoda, the beast flat on its belly as he watched his Master's furious, predatory stalking, growling deeply with each inhale it the Sith's agitation. In the middle of the room stood the subject of Kenobi's ire, arms crossed and _bored_.

"Of course I should be here," Ahsoka Tano said yet again. The subject kept looping back to this, and she was growing tired of the Sith's anxiety. If the man were a Jedi, she imagined that it would come across as being high-strung, and that struck her as...endearing. But for a Sith, anxiety became rage, and while she wasn't afraid, the ship was _much_ colder than necessary. Quinlan Vos, it turned out, was _never_ kidding about the fact that Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi's problems could have all been solved with alcohol and an ample amount of sex. At the very least, it might have relaxed him a bit.

"Prince Organa needs you, Obi-Wan," Ahsoka said firmly. "We have a fleet now, and we need a base. We can't just keep them flying around space forever, we'll be caught."

"You have spies _everywhere_ ," he snarled. "Send out a scouting team and look for yourself! You know better than I do what you need!"

Ahsoka scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Now you're just being _difficult_."

"I'm being _followed_ , Ahsoka!" he snapped, standing before her in a flash and staring down at her with tense, furious eyes. "I don't know _who_ , or what, but I _know_ something's out there baiting me!"

"Ah, see, that's _different_ from being followed," Ahsoka said, poking the man in the chest and smirking when he growled savagely. She crossed her arms. "And I agree. You're being _observed_. Not all the time, but under certain conditions." Kenobi arched an eyebrow, and the Togruta just smirked. "After you withdrew last year, Bail ordered that we investigate your claims." She punched his shoulder, and the Sith sneered. "See? You aren't the only one who looks out for people."

Kenobi frowned as he looked Ahsoka over, felt her through the Force, tried to enter her mind and was _immediately_ repelled. He smirked, pleased at how strong she had grown. As a Jedi, she had never been able to resist him. But what she did now was everything Quinlan had ever taught her, coupled with her own knowledge, her own experience, her own need, and it had made her _powerful_. Not dark, not light, just _strong_. She had grown into stunning womanhood, both as a Force wielder and physically. Quinlan would have been proud and _terribly_ turned on.

Obi-Wan's displeasure slowly turned into bittersweet pain deep within him, and a sad smile crossed his face when he looked at Quinlan's lightsaber hanging on Ahsoka's belt. He lived on in so many ways, through his Padawan, and in a way, through Leia, who shared his rare gift of psychometry, a thing that was proving to be just as useful to her as it had been to the Kiffar and, appropriately, was landing her in just as much trouble. Being able to track the way that Quinlan had was making Luke and Leia something of a terror to anyone that wanted to keep secrets. Teenagers thought they knew everything, but the twins _actually_ did. Poor Bail had to keep practically everything locked away.

Sighing deeply, Kenobi dropped to the floor, legs folded underneath him, and a moment later, Ahsoka did the same. "...so what did you learn?"

"Well, you _are_ being observed, but it doesn't seem like they have the ability to track you. So long as you're out of Imperial sight, you're invisible, as always." Obi-Wan slowly nodded. If anyone knew, it was Ahsoka, the rebel Fulcrum agent had a _very_ long reach.

"So, what, they're trying to lure me out?" he asked softly. "That's no different from anything else they've done before, but this _is_ different. I can feel it, something's changed, and I haven't caught wind of Tarkin or Vader _at all_." Kenobi hissed. "I feel like I'm behind glass. I _don't_ like it."

"Looks to me like you're being tested," Ahsoka said softly. "And you're showing up for _all_ the tests, whether you like it or not." She pointed at him. "Feel like you're a Padawan again, hmm?"

"Yeah, kind of. I _hate it_." He ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes they withdraw, sometimes they stay and fight."

"And no matter what you do, they're learning how you fight, what draws you out, what keeps you away, what your assets are. Our scouts were right. They aren't trying to capture you or kill you, they're writing the _book_ on your behavior."

Kenobi steepled his fingers together as he thought. "I need to find out who this guy is, and I need to put an end to him."

"Which you _can't_ do," Ahsoka said softly. "Go after him, and he's just going to be watching and learning. You'll be walking into a trap, and unlike before, you know way less about this guy than he knows about you. This isn't Tarkin or Vader you're dealing with. This isn't something you can do alone." She smiled. "Care for a trade?" Kenobi arched an eyebrow.

"I don't like sharing."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "No, I _know_ you aren't a team player, Kenobi." She laid her hand on her chest. "But I'm Fulcrum. I assign missions for our rebel agents, and _you_ , Kenobi, are the very best we've got." Her features hardened as she became serious, the Togruta looking over the man carefully. "Your paranoia has kept you out of the fight for almost two years, Obi-Wan, except when your mysterious admirer manages to draw you out of hiding."

"It isn't _paranoia_ , it's-"

"Anxiety then, Obi-Wan, are you really going to debate semantics with me right now, Negotiator?" The edge of Obi-Wan's lips twitched into a sneer, but he kept his mouth closed. "Hunted or not, we need you back in the fight, and I have a mission for you."

"I can't," he said swiftly. "I have too much to do on my own."

"And you're doing _none of it_ for fear of being watched!" Ahsoka sighed. "Obi-Wan. _Please_. I know you feel this project of the Empire is your responsibility, I _know_ you want to find out what they're doing and ruin it, but you _can't_ , not without playing right into the hands of the one who's looking." She extended her had to him. "But _I_ can. Thanks to you, our rebellion has grown. We have ships now, lots of them, a united cause, _thousands_ of people ready to stand and fight."

"It isn't enough!" Obi-Wan hissed, but the Togruta just smiled.

"No. But it will be. And _soon_." She held her hand out to him again. "Tell me what you're hunting. Tell me _who_ you're hunting. Tell me what your missions are and my people will see it done."

"If I can't, what make you think you can?"

"We aren't being watched." She smiled. "They don't know _we're_ here." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and held it. Two years, he had spent apart from the galaxy, separating himself from the fight against the Empire in favor of staying with his children as they entered their teens. Occasionally, he'd get word about an ally in danger, like that mess last year with Hondo, and he'd rush in to save them. But they were traps. _All of them_. Baited especially for him to allow his secret watcher to take notes. Each time he'd foray out to do something disruptive, the next trap would reflect that. No matter where he went, _someone_ was watching. So he disappeared, unable to get through to his highly guarded targets.

Over ten years of Imperial rule saw them becoming more efficient, more effective, Palpatine's grip tightening on everything. But with time came monotony, and while the Empire _was_ practically everywhere, the doldrums had set in, and the further from the Core one traveled, the more lax the Empire became on worlds where they had little investment. Things were nearly ripe for rebellion. It was almost time.

"...oversight of the project belongs to Grand Moff Tarkin," Kenobi said after consideration, and Ahsoka sat back on her heels, attentively listening. "As Governor of the Outer Rim, the project's location falls under his supervision, but he's just the overseer. The project _director_ is a man by the name of Orson Krennic. If we're going to know exactly what this thing they're building is, how it works, and if it's even _possible_ , then we need to get to him."

Ahsoka nodded in understanding. "I take it that we're looking at a weapon. The Empire _loves_ its weapons."

"A battle station, yeah. One of enormous size."

"Where?"

"Planet called Scarif in the Abrion sector. _Extremely_ remote. Don't bother trying to get in, it's a one way trip, and the entierty of the project isn't based there anyway. They have research centers and construction centers all over the galaxy. Taking one out isn't going to stop them, and I haven't been able to identify more than a handful."

"And you're just one man with one ship." Kenobi smiled sadly.

"Even a Lord of the Sith can only do so much. I may be powerful, but I'm fighting against other Sith, and _none of them_ are weak. If they were, I'd have killed them already."

Ahsoka nodded. "The Empire has tightened security around its most valuable assets, but if there's a way to Orson Krennic, we'll find it." She smiled when she felt relief wash over Kenobi, the tension in his shoulders suddenly vanishing and leaving him tired and worn, but relaxed. "Anything else?"

"Luminara." Obi-Wan looked up at her, his golden eyes narrowed and intense, and Ahsoka could feel the strength of his feelings for her. "She's alive, I found her a few years back, and since she's being hunted, she's stayed on the run, but I've... _helped_ her. More than once. Just to escape, lay low for a while, and help her back into hiding. She contacts me when she needs help, but...I haven't heard from her."

"By the sound of your arrangement, it sounds like she's safe," Ahsoka drawled, and the Sith suddenly became more fearsome.

"It's been _two years_."

"...oh." Ahsoka frowned. "Can you sense her?"

"No," he said swiftly. "I'd say something was wrong, but she's in hiding. I _shouldn't_ be able to sense her, or those that are hunting her would be able to as well." Ahsoka looked down when she felt Obi-Wan's cold hand close around hers, the Sith Lord looking desperate. "I need to know she's safe," he said softly, his voice tight with concern and care and what felt like love to the empathetic Togruta. " _Please_. I need to know. Something. _Anything_. This galaxy's a big place, I can't watch _all_ of it."

"I'll attend to that one personally," she said softly, squeezing his hand and smiling. "If she's out there, I'll find her." She patted his hand. "Anything else?" Kenobi shook his head absently. "Since I'm taking your missions," she said, eying the man before her, "you're free to take _my_ mission."

There was silence for a long while, and Ahsoka thought that Kenobi didn't hear her, or else was ignoring her on purpose. "What mission?" he finally asked, and Ahsoka breathed a sigh of relief, exhaling a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"As I said, we need a rebel base. We need you to scout planets where we can hide a fleet and soldiers and plan for the war against the Empire."

"We aren't ready yet," he said swiftly. "My Mandalorians aren't fully grown, many of them are still teenagers, _children_." Ahsoka gave him a look.

" _I_ was fighting a war when I was fourteen."

"And you were a _child_. Teenagers are children, as capable as they think they are." Ahsoka looked at him carefully, tried to gauge him, but found nothing, as usual, though she knew he was talking from personal experience. They never discussed them, never even mentioned them since she had first met them, but Ahsoka knew that the Sith Lord's twins were teenagers now. This was more personal for him than she realized. No wonder he had disappeared, no wonder he had descended into paranoia, he was raising _teenagers_.

"I didn't say we're ready for an open rebellion _now_ ," Ahsoka said reassuringly. "In a few years. We still need more time. And if we're going to keep hidden, we need a _base_."

"I'll forward you a list of suitable planets," Kenobi said swiftly, taking out his datapad and sliding his finger across it, and after a few swift taps, Ahsoka's comlink beeped with the message.

"You...already have a list?"

"I've been scouting for a while." He shrugged. "Camping trips. Don't ask." The tension returned to Kenobi's face. "There. I've done my part for the Rebel Alliance. Now, if you want to _stay_ hidden, you'll get away from me."

"Why?" Ahsoka chirped, carefree and easy. "You just completed your last mission, so...sounds to me like you're free." Kenobi rolled his eyes.

"Now what..."

"Nothing much. Ever heard of Lothal?" Obi-Wan shrugged indifferently and nodded, but inside him, he felt... _something_. A tug, a pull, a whisper from deep within, the gentle hand of the Force pushing him to where he needed to go. "Outer Rim," Ahsoka explained anyway. "It's become a _major_ hub of Imperial industry. They're one of the galaxy's largest supplier of Imperial starships. It's become something of a core world away from the core. The natives welcomed the Empire in, but after what they've done there, the planet is in a state of unrest."

Kenobi groaned. "This is a _recruitment_ mission..."

"It's not just that, Kenobi, they're getting raw materials, making parts to _something_ , and shipping them out. That sounds an _awful_ lot like your secret project." She had his full attention now. "If we can sabotage their starships, if we can get people inside their factories, we can-"

"You've been studying my war strategies..." Obi-Wan said, smirking. "Alright. I'll take a look. Anything else, Lady Tano?" Ahsoka leaned in toward him, the Sith looking at her suspiciously.

"I think," she said softly, "that we need the Shadow King of Mandalore." Obi-Wan drew away immediately. "Kenobi, we lost contact with Bo-Katan _years_ ago because Tarkin won't let her out of his sights. She isn't a prisoner, but if she isn't free to lead her people, Mandalore won't just be pretending to be Imperial for long. They need another option. They need to remember that they are Mandalorian. We destabilize the Mandalorian territories, and it's going to weaken Tarkin's hold on the Outer Rim, and it might free up Bo-Katan long enough to get her back in the loop." Ahsoka took his hands in hers. "We _need_ the Shadow King."

"You know this could see the Mandalorians crushed under Imperial rule, right?"

"Which will send them running to _you_." Ahsoka sighed. "I know it's a risk, but it's one we have to try. Sundari burned, Obi-Wan, and their Mand'alor died, but they still have _you_. They called you king, Obi-Wan, and Bo-Katan hasn't been shy in the past about telling her warriors that _you're_ their Mand'alor. They will follow you. You just need to ask."

"It's too soon for this," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head.

"Yes, but the groundwork needs to be laid _now_. You're being _observed_. Time to force their hand."

He didn't like this. Obi-Wan had never liked rushing into a situation where he didn't know his opponent, but the longer he waited, the more his enemy learned. Invisible or no, if he gave them something to look at, perhaps he could alter how he was viewed. Confusion had always been his strong point. Perhaps his mystery watcher would see through it. Perhaps he would know that now the _observer_ was being observed. But it didn't matter. He needed to draw this person out, and the only way to do that was to make his presence known. People would be suffering anyway. It may as well be on his terms.

"Alright, Fulcrum," Obi-Wan said softly. "I'll see what I can do."

She nodded, a frown on her face. "Obi-Wan. I want revenge for my Master." Kenobi's eyes drifted to the lightsaber at her belt, a saber he missed, but he knew it was in the right hands. It was the weapon of a Jedi, of a man that learned to walk in darkness, but in his final moments, had stepped into the light to save the girl that now carried his blade. His student should have it.

"We'll get it together, Ahsoka," the Sith Lord growled. "I can promise you that."

* * *

 

Her name was Sabine Wren, and she was a Mandalorian, not of the Imperial variety, but of the rougher, wilder bounty hunter type, one of those belonging to the few clans that rejected the claim of Bo-Katan as Mand'alor, a title that wasn't inherited, but earned, and there were those that believed that what she had accomplished was at the grace of another, just as she had risen through the Imperial ranks, not by merit, but by getting close to the right man. Sabine _loved_ Mandalore, but she hated what the Empire had done to it, hated that a Mandalorian would sell her people's independence for power, and so she ran, became a bounty hunter, became part of a team, and that team had betrayed her, left her for dead, and Sabine had nothing.

She was an artist, a free spirit, one that couldn't be contained by the shackles of the Empire, one that needed the space to fly and fight, and with a heart beating for Mandalore, the young warrior decided to bring her fight to the Empire. That she was a _genius_ with explosives, an expert in weapons of all kinds, and an artist of destruction didn't hurt either, and when Hera entered Kanan's room with that look in her eye, he knew he was in for a fight.

" _No_!" Kanan said as soon as the door closed, and Hera immediately crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently upon the ground. Her _battle stance_. "I admit, I was wrong about Zeb. He's turned out to be _very_ useful, but I'm putting my foot down here." He stomped his foot upon the ground. " _No Mandalorians_!"

"And what's wrong with Mandalorians?" Hera calmly asked. Kanan looked at her like she was crazy.

"Are you _serious_?! What's wrong with Mandalorians!? You mean, besides _everything_?!"

"Yes, besides that."

" _Well_ , they're _crazy_!" Kanan said, counting off on his fingers. "Violent, bloodthirsty, gun slinging murderers, the whole lot of them! Oh, and they serve the Empire! Those that don't are bounty hunters, which are _professional_ killers, by the way." He grinned wildly, a clear indication of his stress. "So they kill people for work _and_ for recreation. _Great bunch_." Hera simply shrugged, sauntered up to Kanan, and pushed him back to sit on his bed.

"Sabine's different," she said softly.

"Uh, no. _No she isn't_." Kanan pointed to his temple. " _Hello,_ Hera, are you in there? She is an explosions enthusiast! On today's mission, she blew up the entire hangar bay as we left!"

"Well, we weren't pursued by any Imperials, were we?"

"She shot three stormtroopers." He paused. " _In the face_!"

"They were good shots!" Hera crossed her arms, standing tall before the Jedi. "Fighting against the Empire means killing stormtroopers, Kanan, and you do your fair share of it." She pointed an accusing finger at his chest. "This isn't about Sabine, so what is it?" Kanan sneered and looked away, his fingers drumming against the armor on his right arm.

"...it's the Shadow King," he finally whispered, and Hera's eyes widened, carefully observing the man as she sat down beside him. "You saw the broadcast last month. It was the only thing on the HoloNet on Empire Day," Kanan said mockingly. Hera lightly touched the Jedi's hand, her eyes searching her face. She didn't understand.

"Kanan, I saw that broadcast as a call to arms _against_ the Empire. He's doing what we're doing, but on a much larger scale."

" _We're not the same as him_!" Hera recoiled from the sudden flash of anger, so unusual for her temperate, measured lover, and watched him curiously as he put his face in his hands and took deep, calming breaths. "We aren't the same..." he said again, calmer this time. "We saw him before," Kanan whispered, and Hera looked at him, confused for a moment before her eyes widened in understanding.

"On the _Forager_ ," she said softly. "Back when I met you on Gorse, the one that killed Vidian, the one that helped us." Kanan silently nodded. "He used the Force," Hera whispered excitedly. "He had a lightsaber. Kanan, he's a _Jedi_."

"No," he said, shaking his head, his eyes wide with fear. "No, not a Jedi. Not like me. And not like _us_." There were very few things in this galaxy that could make Kanan Jarrus afraid, but Hera saw fear in him now, raw and primal and planted so deep within him it seemed impossible to uproot. She didn't understand why, but there were things at work that were beyond her, far bigger than her, and it was always something she accepted. She was a small part of something larger. One day, there would be a wide-spread galactic rebellion against the Empire that oppressed them. One day, the people would become organized, would realize that there was more at stake then their friends, their families, their homes, even their planets. That day wasn't now, but there were forces at work that would see it come to pass. Hera was a small pert of that, and that was good enough for her. Some things were just bigger than one person, one crew could ever be.

She had heard of the Shadow King before, but he was exactly that. A shadow. A story. A myth, part of the legends that parents told to frighten children into behaving, part of the Mandalorian stories they told to instil fear into those that opposed them, part of the tales surrounding the cursed world of Ord Mantell, a once thriving planet reduced to ash and boiling seas, made inhabitable because the Shadow King of Mandalore had reached out and brushed his hand upon it. Hera never put much stock into stories like this. Fear so often transformed ordinary people into gods and monsters, and there was a reasonable explanation to all of it. Ord Mantell had been victim of a natural disaster, and the Shadow King was a _fable_ , the rallying cry of a people that had been devastated by the criminal thugs that killed their peaceful Empress, a demon of vengeance unleashed that protected Mandalore, that raised them up when they were at their lowest. If the Shadow King was _ever_ real, and Hera doubted he was, then he was just a man made myth by desperation and grief. Nothing more.

Of course, now there _was_ a Shadow King, a man that had stepped forward, clad in Mandalorian armor that called for the Children of Mandalore to take back their identity, to become Mandalorian once again by forcing the Empire out. A man that demanded that his people obey him when he calls them to action. Calling himself Shadow King was symbolic, of course, picking up the mantle of a myth clad in fear and victory to inspire Mandalore into action. Hera knew well the power of a symbol to a people that were suffering, and while it didn't look like Mandalore was suffering, Sabine had said it best. The Empire had stripped them of their culture, forced them to serve, to ask no questions, had taken their pride and their honor, indoctrinated them into willing service to a master, had made them _all_ dar'Manda, Mandalorians that had lost their heritage, and therefore, their identity and soul. And _that_ was the worst thing of all.

Kanan had shut down when he saw the broadcast, which is why they had yet to discuss it. Kanan was careful and cautious, and while they were doing good work, the former Jedi had been reluctant to the idea of joining with something larger than what they were doing now. Larger in this case meant military, meant war, and Hera wasn't sure if Kanan was ready for another war, and he was certainly mistrustful of soldiers. But where Kanan saw danger, Hera saw an opportunity. This Shadow King, to her discerning eye, looked like an _ally_ , and if it _was_ the same man that had worked with them in the background, in the _shadows_ in their fight against Count Vidian, then that man was a _Jedi_.

Or, so it seemed, but she knew nothing about the Force. _Kanan_ , on the other hand, _did_ , and as soon as he had seen the broadcast, as soon as he had seen the Mandalorian warrior stand between them and Vidian on _Forager_ , Kanan Jarrus _ran_. And for a man that rarely expressed fear, terror could only mean one thing. He knew something, and he _wasn't sharing_.

"Kanan..." Hera said softly, scooting closer to the man and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you know something about this man, you _need_ to tell me. If he's something dangerous, something bad, then I need to know, because from where I'm standing, he looks like an ally."

"An _ally_?" Kanan scoffed in disbelief, and Hera held up a hand to silence him.

"Hear me out," she said softly, "and I promise you, I _will_ listen to what you have to say." Kanan looked at her for a long moment, teal eyes more intense than she had ever seen them, and slowly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, and the Twi'lek could feel his body trembling.

"Go on, then." he whispered, and Hera took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

"This...Shadow King," she started carefully, "has become a symbol of rebellion overnight, not just for the Mandalorians, but for anyone that feels the Empire has taken everything from them. He isn't inspiring a small, isolated uprising, he's calling for something bigger, and if this is the same guy from Gorse, _well_ , he isn't just a symbol, he's actually doing something about it. He's a _rebel_." She looked up into Kanan's face, hard and cold and unmoved, and sighed. This may not have been an argument she could win. "We've been talking about doing more. We've been talking about doing something bigger, which is why we're expanding the team, but this is our chance to be with something larger, something organized, something that could make a real difference. And if he has the _Force_ -"

"He does have the Force, Hera," Kanan swiftly interrupted. "But he's not a Jedi and he's not like me. There are things you don't understand about the Force."

"Then _make me_ understand," Hera pleaded, gently stroking his cheek. "Please." Kanan looked at her for a long while before he sighed heavily and drew the Twi'lek closer, holding on to her for comfort and reassurance.

"His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said quietly, and Hera drew back.

"What, the Separatist leader?" she asked in disbelief, and when Kanan nodded, she couldn't help but laugh. "That isn't possible. Mandalore was neutral in the Clone Wars. If he was their _king_ , why wouldn't they have joined with the Separatists?"

"I really don't know," he said softly. "I was young at the time, and there were so much rumors and confusion surrounding the matter it was hard to keep straight. But my Master always said that Obi-Wan _was_ the Shadow King, and after what we saw on _Forager_...well, it didn't leave any room for doubt. That _was_ the Shadow King. That _was_ Obi-Wan."

"He had the Force," Hera said, and Kanan's eyes tightened around her.

"Y-yeah." He took a deep breath. "Obi-Wan used to be a Jedi. He was a legend. And then he ruined it all when he betrayed the Jedi Order." Kanan laughed bitterly. "The Jedi Traitor. The Fallen Knight. Hera, Obi-Wan, the Shadow King, is a _Sith Lord_." He stuttered when Hera looked at him without understanding. "They're Dark Jedi," he quickly explained. "Those that have the Force but use their powers for evil, for selfishness and greed, for _cruelty_. The dark brothers of the Jedi Order, and because of him, because of Obi-Wan..." He growled in frustration and ran a hand over his hair. "He tore the Jedi apart from the inside, he fractured us, bested our greatest Masters. He even fought _my_ Master, Depa Billaba, before I was her student, and that... _monster_ left her _broken_ , entered her mind and tore her apart so badly that she was in a coma for _years_."

Hera shook her head in disbelief. That _couldn't_ be possible...could it? "How is any of that even possible?" she asked softly, but Kanan just shook his head.

"I don't know, but he did it. Master Billaba never talked about Obi-Wan much, but she knew she could never defeat him, so..." Kanan growled in frustration. "He destroyed the Jedi, Hera. From the inside. The Masters were so focused on tracking that traitor down, on bringing him to justice that it was all we could see." He sighed heavily. "If it wasn't for him, maybe we would have sensed the Republic's betrayal."

"...but he was a _Separatist_ , wasn't he?" Kanan nodded slowly, his eyes shut tight. "This makes it almost seem like they were working together."

"...I admit it doesn't make much sense," Kanan said quietly. "I tried not to think about it much, but the Jedi thought the Sith were in the Republic too. The clones betrayed us, but maybe the Sith made it happen. This whole thing is the work of the Dark Side."

"...and he's fighting _against_ the Empire now."

"Oh no, Hera, don't even go down that path," Kanan warned. "He isn't an ally. He isn't part of some noble cause, he isn't fighting because it's the right thing to do. We need spirit, and you said yourself that all the capability in the world is worth nothing without conscience, and he has _none_. The Dark Side has warped and corrupted him, like it does to everything. He might be fighting against the Empire now, but that's only because, eventually, the Dark Side _always_ turns in on itself. Betrayal and greed and lust for power drive them, and soon enough, we're going to be fighting against him too."

"But what if-"

"If _nothing_ , Hera," Kanan said firmly, grabbing her arms and looking her in the eye. "We see him, we _run_ , and that's all. You heard him when we were trying to save Cynda. He brushed everyone but you and me off as insignificants. He thought it was a _shame_ that he had to kill Vidian! He was in favor of letting the moon be destroyed! Life doesn't matter to him _at all_."

Hera sighed heavily. Kanan was right, of course. The cold, ruthless lack of conscience had horrified her as well. But still, he had provided them information and a means to save the moon he didn't care about, curious and amused and completely unaffected. It was... _chilling_ , yes, but maybe there was more. At the very least, it seemed like getting to know more about this Shadow King was of the utmost importance, if not to determine if he _could_ be a potential ally, then to arm themselves with knowledge in the event that one day, they'd have to stand against him. Of course, there was a lot of unknowns in this equation, a lot of assumptions, a lot of things that just seemed off to the Twi'lek.

"If nothing else, he sounds dangerous," Hera quietly mused, and Kanan nodded.

"He is."

"But to _who_."

"To _everyone_ ," Kanan said firmly. "To all life, everywhere. Maybe he's against the Empire now, but when they're gone, someone else will be next. That's the nature of the Dark Side, Hera, you just keep feeding it and feeding it and it's _never enough_." He shrugged. "That's what Master Billaba said, in any case."

"Are you _sure_ that the man we saw on _Forager_ was the Shadow King? Are you even sure that it was Obi-Wan?" Kanan growled in irritation and let go of the Twi'lek, his elbows on his knees and his hands pressed together.

"No..." he finally said. "I'm not sure of anything. I just...I _felt_ the Dark Side on him, Hera, he carried a red lightsaber, that's the weapon of the Sith, I just..." He shook his head. "I don't know. There's _so much_ I don't know. And if I learned anything from the Jedi about the Sith, it's _really_ dangerous to go around making assumptions about them...that's how they got into such trouble with Kenobi."

"Sounds to me like we need more information before we decide anything," Hera said softly as she caressed Kanan's clenched jaw, and with a sigh, Kanan slowly nodded. A devious smirk crossed the Twi'lek's lips. "You know who would know more about this Shadow King?" Kanan slowly looked at the woman beside him. " _Sabine_."

"Oh no," Kanan said quickly. "No, no, no, no, no. No Mandalorians."

"She doesn't serve the Empire!"

" _No_ , but what happens when that Shadow King of hers come to call, hmm?" Kanan shot Hera a look that dared her to challenge him. "What happens if he _is_ a Sith Lord, what then? Will she go running to fight for him and abandon us?" He scoffed. "We're inviting a traitor in, and Sith _kill_ Jedi. Mandalorians kill Jedi! It's too dangerous."

"Does Sabine strike you as the type to follow orders?" Hera asked, crossing her arms across her chest. She'd meet his challenge. Hera Syndulla wasn't intimidated by Kanan Jarrus.

"And isn't that part of the problem?" Kanan asked slyly. "She doesn't _listen_. She is young and brash and...and _explosion happy_!" The crooked smile on Hera's lips said to Kanan that she _liked_ that about her. "You really want her for this team, don't you..." he asked, already defeated, and with a smile, Hera laid her hand upon his chest and leaned in toward him.

"I _really_ do. We need a strong, capable team if we're going to take on the Empire by ourselves, and Sabine is strong _and_ capable." She sighed heavily. "If there's a greater resistance out there...I don't know, maybe things would be different then, but it's just us" She kissed him softly, felt his tension melt away, felt his arm snake around her waist.

"I'm just _worried_ about it..." Kanan said, breaking away from her, his tension returning. "Mandalorians...it just doesn't seem smart, not with this Shadow King in the mix. Power without conscience...that's no better than the Empire, and we _have_ to be better than them."

"Sabine _is_ better, love," Hera said, smiling gently and stroking the tense man's leg. "She's an artist. A free spirit. She served the Empire, she _believed_ in it, and she felt _smothered_ by them, so she left. She is strong willed, Kanan, and she doesn't trust blindly. She's been hurt too many times for that."

"And she doesn't trust _us_ ," he said, pointing at his chest.

Hera smiled softly and stroked his hair back as she kissed his jaw line. "She just met us. Give her time. And she _did_ do well on today's mission. Without her, we wouldn't have gotten away so easily."

Kanan sighed heavily, a soft smile on his face. Despite his objections, Hera had won this fight a long time ago. "Yeah. She did good. She's...feisty. Getting her to follow orders isn't going to be easy."

"Orders she disagrees with, maybe, and you can bet she'll throw paint over everything, but..." Hera smiled. "I think she'll do what we ask if she knows what we're doing is making a difference." The Twi'lek ran her hands down his chest, watching his face as he smiled in contentment. "She's a free spirit, love. If this Shadow King looks like bad news, she'll fight against that too."

"...yeah, maybe," Kanan grumbled, groaning loudly as he stretched. "And now we have an _actual_ child on the ship. We barely had time alone as it was, but now that's _definitely_ over with."

"Oh, I don't know..." Hera said slyly, slinking into Kanan's lap, and the Jedi's hands rested on her hips. "She _is_ an artist. She's got to spend _some_ time painting. All the galaxy is that girl's canvas, and the Imperial drabness offends her. She _did_ say she was going to repaint her armor." She paused to kiss her lover. "And her hair..."

"The more you talk about her, the more I like her..." Kanan said, his voice low and husky as he dragged Hera against him. "Creative thinking is essential in our line of work..."

"Mmhmm..." They kissed, deep and passionate, the first time they had been able to have a moment to themselves in weeks, and they _had_ missed this, had _needed_ it, and Hera quickly pulled Kanan's shirt up, running her hands over his strong, defined stomach, the Jedi moaning softly at her touch.

They both jumped, parting swiftly when there was a loud banging on Kanan's door, and they leapt to their feet, flushed and breathless and quickly straightening out their disheveled clothing. " _Kanan_!" Zeb called through his incessant pounding, "come quick, that Mandalorian's _crazy_ , just like you said!"

Kanan grit his teeth as he tried to suppress his need. It wasn't working. "Zeb, so help me, she's-"

"She's painting one of the passenger seats in the cockpit!"

"She's _what_?!" Hera snapped, slamming her hand on the door controls and racing down the hall toward the offending Mandalorian's new masterpiece. " _Sabine Wren, don't you dare defile my ship_!" Hera screamed, pounding on the locked door of the cockpit.

"I'm not defiling it!" Came Sabine's muffled reply from the cockpit where she worked. "I'm _improving_ it!" Kanan stuck his head out of his room and looked toward Hear, who was screaming for Chopper to come and override the lock. Zeb looked at Kanan, his hair disheveled, a faint blush on his cheeks, and _snickered_.

"We aren't... _interrupting_ anything, are we?" Zeb growled, endlessly amused, and the Jedi shot him a glare that could kill.

"Hey, Hera," he drawled lazily. "I changed my mind. Throw the Mandalorian out the airlock."

" _When I get my hands on her, I'm going to_!"

From inside the cockpit, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of spray paint and soft, amused laughter.

* * *

 

Lothal hung before them, a planet of green and blue and tan, an agricultural world once, turned into a world of industry by the Empire, a world where the farmland had been transformed, mined for minerals and gems and crystals, resources that the earth was rich in. Covering the landscape now were enormous factories and assembly plants belonging to ship manufacturers, churning out TIE Fighters and Star Destroyers at an alarming rate, along with hundreds of other projects that the Empire required. They received shipments of raw materials throughout the galaxy that were quickly transformed into parts and pieces for other projects that were then shipped elsewhere for assembly at other plants in other locations. The whole thing seemed a bit roundabout, but if sabotage was a major concern, and it _was_ , keeping the components separate made sense. It made it easier to locate the source of the problem.

Obi-Wan didn't understand what made Lothal special, other than the fact that the people of the planet had welcomed the Empire with open arms, hoping that the neglected farm world would see an economic boom with the Imperial interest. They _did_ , but not in the way they expected, and thousands of people were relocated, their farms and lands seized by the Empire, and the people were forced to work in the strip mines that covered the land that once was there homes. They had been relocated to shanty towns that were barely livable, little villages called Tarkin towns, named after the Grand Moff of the Outer Rim, the one who decided the conditions they should live in. Everything about them was poor, and the people were soon left regretting the day the Empire came.

Fulcrum was right. This planet _was_ primed for rebellion.

Of course, Kenobi didn't actually care about the people there. These were farmers, crushed under the yoke of the Empire, miserable and afraid and they would never amount to anything. They were better off forgotten. However, there _were_ broadcasts out of the city encouraging resistance to the Empire, but by the time Kenobi had gotten there, the rebels, a husband and wife team with the last name Bridger, were gone, and had been gone for a long time. The broadcasts were recordings, replayed by another who stayed very well hidden. He'd find him eventually.

It had taken Obi-Wan a few months to actually make it out here. There were other planets he had wanted to scout for the eventual rebel base, none of which were terribly comfortable, which helped in keeping people away, and re-establishing himself as the Shadow King was far more difficult than intended. The things he had done were bolder, more brash than anything he had done since the Clone Wars, not done to cause damage, which he _had_ , but to get people talking. Even Yoda, Grandmaster of the Rancors, got in on the action, released in an Imperial stormtrooper garrison on Concord Dawn in the Mandalore system.

It had worked, and while the Empire had been trying to silence all media and transmissions that even mentioned the name of the Mandalorian Lord, stopping people from talking was far, _far_ more difficult. The radical change in tactics, he had _hoped_ , would prove confusing for his secret watcher, though he suspected that whoever he was, was _devilishly_ intelligent and saw the act for exactly what it was: an acknowledgment that a game was being played, and it was the watcher's move.

The Empire was left in a tricky situation with how to deal with the Shadow King's spectacular re-emergence, and what they settled on was the most logical choice. _This_ man was an imitation. A traitorous dissident. A _mockery_ of Mandalore's legendary, _respected_ Shadow King. It _couldn't_ be him. The _real_ Shadow King was dead and gone, _had_ to be, and if not, would have been a man past his prime, incapable of the feats that the pretender was capable of. Analysis of the traitor's movements put him as a young man in his early twenties, while the old one would have been in his fifties. This was a young man making a mockery of the proud Mandalorians, a traitor that sought to seize power through deceit.

It was the official story, in any case. How else did one explain something as insane as immortality? How did one explain to the average person that the Separatist Leader Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator, a man that had never been officially caught, never aged past twenty five? How were they to explain that the fifty year old Negotiator _was_ the twenty year old Shadow King? They didn't. Instead, Obi-Wan Kenobi was scrubbed from the record, a dangerous menace finally caught in hiding on a remote world and very, _very_ publically executed.

Obi-Wan didn't feel bad for the poor fool that stood in his place, an older man that looked a great deal like he would have had his hair and beard ever grown white with age. To the galaxy, he no longer existed, which was both a blessing and a curse. His name had carried weight. Fear. An inspiration to others that showed that resistance was possible, that the Empire was nothing to be feared if they couldn't capture one man, if they were made into fools by him, and were they to attribute his name to the Shadow King as well, it would have been open rebellion, one powerful, intimidating figure to stand strong against Palpatine's rule.

Instead, they killed Obi-Wan and made the Mandalorian Lord an _insult_ to the proud warriors he imitated, claiming to be king when he had done nothing to earn it. If anything, the Imperial propaganda machine was _terribly_ powerful. If one controlled information, then one controlled _everything_ , and Sidious had always been very good at that. By killing Kenobi, they fought one enemy instead of two, and the one was...small. Hardly worthy of note. A young upstart that would soon be apprehended. Were Kenobi to be alive, the fearsome Separatist leader revealed to _also_ be the Shadow King...well, that was a hell of a scary opponent. Though people still talked. They still whispered. And the war orphans raised by the proud Mandalorians, children with the power of the Force, _they_ knew.

On the bright side, his official death made it a fair bit easier to simply disappear. It was like having a clean slate, and he was hoping to keep it that way, at least until the rebellion was ready. He's have to thank Sidious right before he killed him. He wondered how many knew the truth. Vader, obviously. Maul, of course. Tarkin certainly did, but Obi-Wan didn't think that Sidious would be so careless to reveal such a thing to anyone but his inner circle. He wondered if his watcher knew. He _must_ have.

...who _was_ this guy?

"You know..." Cody drawled in the co-pilot's seat, his gaze focused out the forward viewport at Lothal. "For such an important Imperial planet, you'd _think_ they'd have more Star Destroyers in orbit."

"Why should they?" Obi-Wan quietly asked, his eyes closed as he immersed himself in the Force, his hand lightly clutched around the red pyramid of a Sith holocron. "The planet is heavily defended, and they need their ships to control the rest of the sector." He chuckled softly as a smirk crossed his face. "I _hear_ there are rebels in the area."

"Yeah, small fish in a big pond," Cody scoffed. "They're just harrying them, it's nothing major."

"The smallest crack can make the dam break, brother..." Kenobi muttered, opening his palm and commanding the holocron to float before him and open, the soft glow of red filling the cockpit. "A single crew, from what we've seen." He opened his eyes and looked at the clone. "Do you agree?"

Cody nodded. "From what we've seen in their attacks, yeah. One rebel cell. One crew. One ship."

"We are of the same mind, though for such a small operation, they certainly cause a lot of damage."

Cody laughed. "Must have a Mandalorian on board."

"I believe that's a certainty." He frowned as an Imperial light cruiser came out of hyperspace in the distance and sped toward the planet before them. He knew the ship to be under the command of the ISB Agent Kallus, recently transferred to Lothal to deal with the rebel insurgency, little more than annoyances in the might of the Empire, but not to be tolerated in any case. He had no luck so far, just as Obi-Wan and Cody always arrived too late to get a glimpse of this rebel cell. Fulcrum _had_ asked them to keep an eye out for recruits while he was out.

"He's never going to find them," Cody said, pointing at the Imperial ship. "That boy ain't an idiot, but if _we_ can't intercept the rebels, there's no way he can. Are we even sure they're still out here? Honestly, Kenobi, we've been waiting here for _days_. Yoda's getting restless!"

" _Yoda_ , is fine," the Sith Lord stressed. " _You're_ just impatient. Aren't old men supposed to be patient?" Cody crossed his arms and slunk down in his seat, grumbling.

"I've told you a _hundred_ times. I'm not _old_ , I'm _vintage_." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway.

"The rebel attacks have all occurred on planets and supply convoys and stations surrounding _here_. Lothal. Imperials are using it as their base of operations in the sector to hunt the rebels, and I'm willing to guess that our rebel cell is doing the same. At some point, they will return here."

"We haven't been able to find them yet."

"Because they are _good_ , Cody," Obi-Wan drawled, shutting his eyes once again. "They're _very_ good. Worth our time. Worth our attention." If Cody responded, he didn't hear it, his consciousness pulled beneath the waters of the Force to flood his mind with visions, some clear, some vague, but at the end of it all, he found himself in his field of Jedi, the ashes falling from the sky like snow, and standing tall and proud stood the Padawan. _Kanan_. He had the vision often these days, one of the final visions from his early days that had yet to be resolved, though he felt the time was fast approaching.

There was something else. Something within the Force that drew his attention toward the planet below, a low hum, barely audible, but sitting in his mind like a headache, leaving him unable to focus on much else, and his thoughts wandered again to _why_. Why had the Empire taken Lothal? Why here, of all the worlds they could have chosen? There was something here, something secret, something hidden. Something the Empire wanted _badly_. There must have been a secret reason they were here, one that went beyond being invited there...

The hum became a soft ring, a melodic chime, a song on the winds of the Force, and Kenobi recognized it immediately. _Kyber crystals_. There were kyber crystals on Lothal. No wonder the Empire was mining the planet bare, the battle station they were crafting seemed to require vast amounts of kyber crystals to power it. He wondered if there was a Jedi Temple on the planet. Some secret, final holdout of the Jedi Order, a Temple long forgotten. He hadn't heard of any Temples during his tenure as a Jedi Knight, but then, the Jedi have _always_ been a secretive bunch. He'd have to check. At the very least, it was worth investigating. Perhaps they kept holocrons of the... _darker_ persuasion. The Jedi collected even those.

No matter how hard he tried to stay focused on it, his thoughts drifted back to the field of ash and death, and the lone man that stood in the middle of it all. But this time, it was different. This time, he could _see him_.

Teal eyes widened with fear, and the Jedi backed up, hands flying to his belt to grab two cylinders which he quickly clipped together, and a blue blade extended from his newly assembled lightsaber. Obi-Wan folded his hands before him, never reaching for his. This was a vision. He couldn't be hurt here. Neither said anything, the Jedi cautious and afraid, the Sith Lord still and curious. Obi-Wan could _feel it_ , the Jedi's eyes looking right through him, the vision now a vision shared between both himself and this Jedi. This Kanan. He wondered if this Jedi had the training necessary to recognize the experience for what it was, or if he would simply brush it off as a nightmare, the recent "death" of Obi-Wan Kenobi bringing his image to the forefront of the Jedi's mind.

"Obi-Wan..." the Jedi finally whispered, staring the Sith Lord fearfully in the eye. Kenobi just smirked.

" _Kanan_." Teal eyes widened, fear becoming pure terror, and the man stumbled back, tripping over the body of a Jedi behind him, and with a panicked scream, Kanan scrambled to his feet, covered in ash and staring at the body of his Master, her body covered in scars left by a red lightsaber, and to his horror, he found himself lifted up with the Force, his eyes meeting the fiery, golden gaze of the Sith Lord. Obi-Wan reached out his hand to the frightened Jedi, fingers extended to touch his face, his gaze never leaving the frightened Jedi's eyes.

"Ship incoming, brother," Cody said swiftly, and with a sharp gasp, Obi-Wan was thrown out of the Force, his eyes flying open to stare out the viewport at a ship that appeared right before them, a modified VCX-100 light freighter, it's engines blazing as it flew toward the planet before them. Not an Imperial vessel. The Rebels.

 _Kanan was on that ship_.

A slow grin spread across Kenobi's face to the confusion of Cody. Who simply shook his head. His boss, on his best days, was positively insane. "Those are our Rebels..." Kenobi said softly. Cody wasn't even surprised. Obi-Wan just knew things.

"Want to follow them?"

"No..." the Sith Lord said softly, staring at the ship as it disappeared into the planet's atmosphere. "We're going to watch them. I'm curious to see what they may do, and right now, they have my undivided attention."

Kyber crystals. The Empire's secret project. A clever rebel cell. A _Jedi_ , one of the few that survived Order 66. All in one place.

 _Everything_ , it seemed, was converging on Lothal.


End file.
